Harry Potter and the Name of Merlin
by whenithitsthefan
Summary: During Harry's second year, the Chamber of Secrets is opened and muggleborns are targeted, courtesy of Slytherin's basilisk. But this time, the basilisk isn't the only thing that's been unleashed...HP/Merlin Crossover. VERY AU.
1. Chapter 1

During Harry's second year, the Chamber of Secrets is opened and muggleborns are targeted, courtesy of Slytherin's basilisk. But the basilisk isn't the only thing that's been unleashed...HP/Merlin Crossover. VERY AU.

No, really, I'm not paying attention to the books AT ALL. There's a lot of similarities, but this definitely isn't one of those fics where the author copies every scene from the book.

* * *

_THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED ONCE MORE. ENEMIES O_

"What do you suppose the end of the message would have been?" Ron voiced to Harry and Hermione as the students gaped at the blood message on the corridor wall. The message had obviously been cut short -the _O _after 'enemies' had been smeared hurriedly and there was a messy blood splatter on the floor that suggested that someone had made a quick escape.

"Of?" Hermione conjectured. "Or? Out?" She thought for a moment. "No, probably not out." She began muttering under her breath.

Harry and Ron shrugged at each other, perfectly content to let Hermione come to the conclusion by herself.

"Back to your dorms!" McGonagall called out to the general student body, and her shrill voice carried so that everyone heard her quite clearly. With a bit of grumbling and shuffling of feet, the corridor began to clear. With one last look at the message on the wall, the trio followed suit.

"But it must have been someone powerful to interrupt the person writing the message," Hermione continued as they walked. "I mean...the person writing it hasn't really had qualms about killing before. If someone had stumbled on the penman while they were in the middle of writing it, say, a student, they probably wouldn't have thought twice before killing them -it hasn't really stopped them before. (Petrification, but same difference). And..."

She thought a bit more, then grimaced.

"...And it probably would have added an extra little flare to the message, putting a body there beneath."

The boys shuddered. "You're right," Harry said. "Who do you think stopped them?"

"Dumbledore," Hermione answered without hesitation. "Definitely Dumbledore, who else would've been powerful enough? Mind you, maybe Lockhart had -"_  
_

Ron snorted.

"Lockhart didn't stop them, Hermione," Harry said, grinning a little. "I was helping him answer his fan mail, remember?"

Hermione frowned.

They'd arrived at the Gryffindor common room. Hermione offhandedly spoke the password and the portrait hole swung open.

The common room was completely empty when they had arrived. They found (even Hermione) that they were all a bit too tired to even think about starting their homework, so Ron and Harry bade Hermione goodnight and trooped up to the second-year boys' dormitory.

Harry was about to crash in bed when he stopped -there was a note on his pillow.

_Harry Potter, _the note said.

_You are being targeted. Talk to the redheaded Gryffindor girl._

_-me_

"Me?" Ron asked skeptically, reading the note over Harry's shoulder. "Who signs their notes '_me'?"_

"Someone who doesn't want their identity known, I suppose," Harry muttered. "It's weird, though. Who do you think left it and why do they want me to talk to your sister?"

Ron shrugged. "A Gryffindor? Or a teacher?"

Harry nodded wearily. "Yeah," he murmured, setting the note on the bedside table and plopping into bed with an exhausted sigh. The night of answering Lockhart's fan mail had taken its toll on him. "Sleep on it, I suppose."

Ron took the hint and did the same with his own bed. Within a minute, the boy's dormitory was filled with soft snores.

Not Harry's snores. Harry stayed awake for a lot longer than Ron had, staring into space above him and wondering what it all meant.

* * *

It was even later that night that Albus heard a knock on his office door.

He'd just been thinking about retiring to his bedchambers, himself -and Dumbledore frowned, because the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office alerted him to when anyone spoke the password.

"Come in," Dumbledore spoke curiously. Had he missed the little chime that the miniature gargoyle on his desk had emitted? Was he growing deaf/oblivious/spacey/forgetful in his old age?

_It's probably Severus, _Dumbledore decided. Only Severus Snape would come to his office at this hour, perhaps to discuss something urgent concerning the disseminated ex-Death Eaters throughout the country. But...

The person who'd entered wasn't Severus Snape.

He was a young man -maybe _fifteen__, _but that was an extremely rough guess. Dark _dark _hair, light eyes of a blue to emulate Albus's own. There was a history behind those eyes, too. And a strange magical aura...one that he'd never encountered before.

It struck Albus that this man was what Albus saw when he looked in the mirror. Just not as old...

He refrained from prodding at the boy's mind. It was impolite, untrustworthy and vaguely dangerous.

"Albus Dumbledore," the boy said, bowing slightly as his eyes twinkled -_that's unfair, only my eyes are allowed to do that -_and he moved further into the room. "May I sit down?"

The man had an odd accent -Albus couldn't quite place it.

Albus nodded. "Certainly...may I ask who you are? You're not a student."

The boy grinned a bit. "No, I'm not," he replied. "My name is -" he hesitated. "Myrddin Emrys."

"And why are you in my office?" _Maybe that came out a bit rude..._

"I was wondering if I could occupy a position in your school," Myrddin asked, a bit hopefully. "I don't mean to come to you so late in the year, but...my, uh..."

The headmaster frowned.

"My parents recently passed." Myrddin drew himself up a bit. "I have nowhere else to go -I've been home-taught before now, I should be at the level of about fourth year."

Albus felt a twinge of sympathy for the boy, though it didn't show on his face. Instead, the old man nodded immediately -he'd never turned anyone magical down in all his years as headmaster, and he wasn't about to start now. "Of course," he responded receptively. "Though I must warn you, there was an incident in the school last year and there seems to be a bit of trouble in the school currently. We'd have to sort you. And get your books -"

"I have everything," Myrddin interrupted. "My parents were wealthy, I went to Diagon Alley yesterday."

Albus nodded. "Then when would you like to begin school?" Albus asked. "We can't officially put you in any classes for a week, but if you'd like the Sorting can take place tomorrow at the earliest."

Myrddin frowned. "There's...a bit of a problem, concerning my classes," he began hesitantly. "Um...I can't exactly...I don't have the ability to use a wand."

There was a silence. Albus stared. It hadn't even _occurred _to him that the boy might be a Muggle. _What?_

"How did you manage to get into the castle?" Albus broke the silence. "For that matter, how did you know the password to my office?"

_Perhaps I was a bit hasty in this decision..._

"I'm sorry, Myrddin...without the ability to use magic, you will find it difficult to remain in Hogwarts School."

But Myrddin was shaking his head. "No, you misunderstand me. I can't use a _wand." __  
_

"..."

"...But I am perfectly capable of using magic."

"..."

Without a word, Myrddin opened his hand and a flame appeared, cupped in his palm. And...was it the firelight, or had the boy's eyes shone _gold? _He hadn't really been paying attention.

"So you might want to tweak my schedule a bit to put me only in the classes that don't require a wand," Myrddin continued, closing his fist and extinguishing the light as if nothing had happened. Albus stared at the spot which the flame had disappeared. "No transfiguration, or charms...I'm perfectly happy just brewing potions and looking into crystal balls and whatnot..."

But...

_But that was powerful magic! _No way a teenager could perform that! Wandless, wordless...and with fire, too!

"How..." Albus said weakly.

Myrddin gave Albus a small close-lipped grin.

"I'm a druid," Myrddin said after a moment. "My parents were, too. Druids don't have the ability to use wands -anyone connected to the Old Religion -it's the type of magic we use -is connected _strictly _to the Old Religion, and we can't use the magic that most wizards would use."

"Huh."

Myrddin shuffled nervously, waiting for Albus to respond.

"Forgive me for being so dumbstruck," Albus said after a moment, recovering his wits. "I've...just never seen anyone so young perform magic such as that. I'd thought the druids had died out as well, but apparently I was wrong.

"And I think...I don't usually enjoy doing this, but the circumstances are rather unusual and I find I have little choice." Myrddin frowned a bit, confused. "I need to search your mind," Albus revealed guiltily. "Using Legilimency. It won't hurt, and if you have a memory you don't want me to see, just imagine a door and shut the memory behind it. I won't prod."

Myrddin nodded. Was it Albus's imagination, or did Myrddin seem as though he..._expected _this?

"Go on, then," the boy said, taking a stance that indicated that he was bracing himself for the old man's prying. "I have nothing to hold back."

Dumbledore nodded once, still a bit guilty, and with a muttered spell he dove into Myrddin's mind.

* * *

Merlin shuddered as he left the headmaster's office, slipping past the gargoyle on his way out. The headmaster had searched through his fake memories of his parents dying and the general scheme of his forged childhood, had given him the rundown of the school and had told him that he would be Sorted the following morning. Merlin had made a couple of mistakes back there -hesitating when asked for his name, and going past the gargoyle in an unorthodox fashion. He'd told Dumbledore that he'd asked a passing teacher -he hadn't mentioned which teacher, and Dumbledore thankfully didn't pry. In reality, he just didn't know the password and instead had simply walked through the wall.

_Lazy, _Merlin cursed himself. _Stupid. You have to _think, _you idiot!_

That last part had been in Arthur Pendragon's voice.

Merlin felt a twinge of sadness. Arthur Pendragon was long gone, of course, and he had been for thousands of years -but to Merlin, it _wasn't _thousands of years.

Merlin had been sleeping since Hogwarts had been built and the Chamber of Secrets opened.

In retrospect, it probably hadn't been the _best _of ideas, agreeing to Godric Gryffindor's proposition. Merlin had been alive for hundreds of years after Camelot's fall (his ties to the Old Religion forbade him to _die, _dammit, or even age), until the early 11th century when the founders had surfaced. Merlin had met them, befriended them, told them who he really was because _why not. _Not as much was at stake back then.

He'd played a major hand in the building of the school, but had refused to be named officially as one of the founders (though he _did _sometimes wonder what his house's morals would stand for. Laziness? Dumb trust? Zero concern for one's own health?)

_Emrys House, where dwell the idiots, _he thought to himself, chuckling darkly. Yes, it was probably better that he didn't have a house under his name.

And he had been _bored. _He'd had four hundred years of loneliness with no one but Kilgharrah and Aithusa for company, and they were usually off on their own. So when Godric Gryffindor had asked him _how would he like to remain in the school asleep for a really long time and wake up when there's actual danger _Merlin had said yes. And now there was danger, and now Merlin was awake.

He'd used a quick charm on himself to make him look a few years younger (he looked twenty-something, usually, but twenty-somethings weren't allowed to go to Hogwarts).

He probably should have asked Godric to make the spell so that he would wake up when there was danger _anywhere, _but if _that _had happened, then he would have woken up practically a day after the spell had been cast. There was danger everywhere, always.

_I need to find out more about this school, _Merlin decided. He had time to kill between now and the Sorting tomorrow. He'd told Dumbledore that he'd been left his family's home, and that 'his (ahem, nonexistent) aunt was there, and that he had a way of getting there (floo, of course!)'...but he didn't _actually_ have a home in this decade.

With a quick muttered spell, Merlin vanished to the naked eye. He set off in the direction of the library.

_Oh, I've missed this school, _Merlin grinned at the corridors around him. _It's barely changed. Oh, look, there's that bloody statue that Godric put in that Rowena was complaining about for ages. There's the first classroom ever used in Hogwarts. There's that burn mark on the wall from when Salazar and Godric got into a spell fight. Aha, there's the library!_

Merlin stopped, glancing around him surreptitiously just to be sure no one was lurking to see the door randomly open.

He pushed open the door to the library.

_Wow, it's grown, _Merlin marveled around him. He had a lot of reading to do tonight...and the English language had changed a _lot _from when the founders were there, there would be a ton of strange spellings in these books that Merlin wouldn't recognise. The only reason he'd been able to carry on a conversation with Dumbledore was because he'd cast a translating charm on himself before he visited the headmaster.

_Oh, wait...the translating charm extends to writing, too, doesn't it?_

Merlin couldn't quite remember, but he hoped so. It would be an even longer night otherwise.

He moved forward into the room, in the _A _section.

_Hogwarts' history first, _he decided. _Then the history of everything else. I need to catch up on my current events._

Merlin found the Hogwarts section easily enough, and picked a promising book off of a shelf. _Hogwarts: a History _was the last copy left.

He read the book rather quickly, thank to the fully-functioning translator charm (he was scanning a bit, a talent he'd learned at Camelot under Gaius's supervision) and stopped on a chapter that mentioned something familiar.

_The Chamber of Secrets..._

He remembered the writing on the wall.

_The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies o..._

He remembered the girl who had been writing it -a redheaded girl with a red Gryffindor tie, with her fingers dipped in red blood. The Old Religion had been calling him to her, and he realised immediately that she was possessed.

She had recognised him, though -or whoever was indirectly possessing her had, and she had stopped writing mid-sentence and ran. He would find the girl, he told himself. She _had _to be a student here.

_The Chamber of Secrets blah blah Salazar Slytherin blah blah Muggleborns..._

(Basically: Salazar had put a monster in a chamber to kill Muggleborns and left the school).

The book was very vague on the subject, and made it absolutely clear that the Chamber was a _myth._

_That's not true, _Merlin thought, frowning. _Salazar definitely put the Chamber in the school, I remember...unless the other three founders just thought that he had. But I've never known Rowena to be wrong..._

Still frowning, he put the book back on the shelf and picked up another.

_A Recent Detailed History of Hogwarts School, _the book was titled. It spanned from the seventeen hundreds to the late nineteenth century, and seemed fairly accurate.

_The Chamber of Secrets was supposedly opened in 1943..._

Merlin stopped scanning.

_This is interesting._

But Merlin had been _asleep _during that time. Why hadn't he woken up?

And Dumbledore had mentioned trouble within the school _last _year...why hadn't he woken up _then? _Or earlier _this _year, for that matter?

Merlin finished the passage and shut the book, sighing. He stood up slowly from the position on the ground which he had been reading the other books, and moved towards a different section in the library -'History of the Wizarding World'.

It took Merlin three hours and a headache to scan through a gigantic book that spanned from the beginning of the 1000's to the present. It was a very brief summary of every event, but there were a _lot _of things that had happened from then to now, and it was a lot of information for Merlin to keep straight in his head.

One thing had stuck, though.

_Harry Potter._

He knew the name -the first thing that he had done when he'd woken up from his Rapunzel-esque sleep was ask some of the portraits about, well, everything. He knew about Voldemort, and he knew what had happened on October 31st, 1981. He knew that Harry Potter was in danger, and right after the message had been written on the wall and he had glimpsed the girl, he had used Legilimency to barrel into the mind of the person who was possessing her. He hadn't gotten much information -the confrontation had been extremely brief, and he didn't want to hurt the girl -but he knew that it was a man, a young man, and that they were after Harry Potter.

So he wrote a note. He didn't know if Harry knew he was being targeted or not, but he put it in the note anyways.

Then he'd cast a quick translation spell and placed it on Harry Potter's pillow, aided tremendously by his own magic.

Merlin's mind was racing -he hadn't had this much to think about in over one thousand years -and his eyes were getting blurry from lack of sleep over the past few days. It seemed that a thousand years of sleeping didn't exactly overrule the human body's natural sleep cycle.

Rubbing his eyes, Merlin closed the book with as soft a snap he could manage, reshelving it and standing up.

Then he re-remembered that, at least until tomorrow, he _had _nowhere to sleep.

_Bollocks,_ Merlin groaned mentally, ..._I'll__ just keep reading then._

And he did, until the sun rose over Hogwarts and it was time, finally, to be Sorted_._

* * *

Ugh, it was _difficult _not using the name 'Merlin' with the scene in Dumbledore's office. I kept misspelling it, and rechecking and re-rechecking and UGH. If there's any errors, PLEASE TELL ME! You're awesome, thanks.

Anyone recognise the ellipses? If anyone can guess what they're a reference to I'll hug you. Virtually.

-whenithitsthefan


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry for my plot bunny-turned-rabid-vamprabbit. It wouldn't stop eating me.

* * *

Merlin stood outside the Great Hall with acute trepidation.

Minerva McGonagall stood tall and sharp-eyed beside him, glancing occasionally down at the black-haired boy with something vaguely resembling curiosity. Merlin didn't really mind; maybe he would have, on another day, but today he was too nervous to care.

_Gods, I'm like a little kid,_ Merlin thought to himself, grinning a bit and bouncing on the balls of his feet. _Over a thousand and nervous to sit under an old hat. Ha!_

McGonagall noticed the adrenalised movement, but said nothing for a moment, instead opting to place a firm hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"Are you ready, Mister Emrys?" She murmured just loud enough so that he could hear. "We'll be going in in just a moment."

He nodded quickly. "Ready," he bumbled, "I'm definitely ready. Mind you, does the Hat actually read your mind, or just your general moral compass? Or something similar?" This was the part that he had been nervous about, after all -not the actual sorting part of the Sorting, but the part where he entrusted his deepest secrets to a battered old conical garment. He was only fifty percent sure that he would be able to block his mind from the hat's mental invasion -animated objects were tricky, and tended to surprise him.

McGonagall frowned. "You can easily carry on a mental conversation with it, if that's what you're asking. And how did you know it would be a hat?"

_Oh, is that supposed to be a secret?_ The Founders hadn't acted as though it were a secret when they had shown him the thing a thousand years ago.

Merlin shrugged. "My aunt knew someone who went here," he said in explanation, leaving the rest of the story open for McGonagall to conclude. He wouldn't have had time to say anything else anyways -McGonagall was already pushing open the greatly familiar wooden doors with a whip to the air with her wand.

She stepped forward. He stepped forward.

And every single eye in the Great Hall -count those -was on him.

And every single one knew that he was a sorcerer. And no one was trying to kill him!

Of course, Arthur and the court had known and had accepted him as Court Sorcerer back in Camelot's age, but all these unfamiliar faces...weird.

He followed McGonagall timidly as she led the way up the aisle to the hat.

"I trust I don't have to call your name, Mister Emrys," the witch said sternly, but there was a twinkle in her eye.

Merlin grinned back and moved forward to the hat, up the steps. His arms were shaking the tiniest bit, imperceptible to any non-Merlin person, as he picked the hat up, turned, sat down...and placed it on his head, hastily constructing mental shields as he did so.

"_Hello_," Merlin thought cheerfully, projecting his jejunity towards the brink of his mind. "_Sort me, O Great Moth-Eaten One._"

It was a bit pretentious, but he liked it. Grinning slightly, he waited for the hat's reply.

"..."

Frowning when no reply came, he cast his eyes upwards.

"_Hello_?"

"..."

"_Are you alive?_"

"..."

"_Is this a test?_"

"..."

"_Am I proving my patience?_"

"..."

"_Or a test of wit? Is there a trick to get you to talk?_"

Still nothing.

"_I failed your test, didn't I._"

"..."

What was WRONG with this thing?

In the meantime, the entire Great Hall was staring at him with inclined eyebrows, wondering why the strange boy was flicking the brim of the hat peevishly.

"Come on. Wake up," Merlin groaned. _Flick, flick. Sigh. Shoulder slump._

Was the hat ignoring him because of his unorthodox magic?

Or maybe...

Frowning even further, Merlin chewed the skin on his lower lip.

...Maybe the Hat was overwhelmed by his magic and decided to shut down.

Merlin chose the second option -it made him feel better about himself. So if he/her/it wasn't going to answer Merlin anytime soon...

_Why not? YOLF!_

And then the Great Hall gasped as the boy took the Hat off of his head -and placed it back on the stool.

But...what? WHAT?

The Hat hadn't Sorted him yet!

Clasping his hands behind his back in an irritatingly innocuous fashion, Merlin turned to face the teachers' table.

"I think I broke the Sorting Hat," Merlin told them, flashing an apologetic grin at Dumbledore, who sat even more shell-shocked than he had been before.

Then he turned, and addressed the students.

"I'll just go to Gryffindor, if it's not too much trouble."

And all three hundred faces gaped, completely unable to move or protest or clap because of sheer astonishment, as Myrddin Emrys took a seat beside the Weasley twins, still grinning as if Severus Snape had just given him two thumbs up and smile.

Long.

Pregnant.

Silence.

The Hall broke into hushed whispers.

"Should stay away from -"

"Might be insane -"

"- No other explanation."

"What if -"

"Actually did break the Hat -"

"Drove the Hat mad, probably -"

"Still insane."

"But what if -"

"Just saying that -"

"Hat was taking too long -"

"Got impatient...?"

"Definitely -"

"Off his -"

"Rocker -"

Merlin's ears were finely tuned to the student's not-so-secret conversations. There was food before them all -evidently, the elves in the kitchen hadn't received word that something strange was happening, and so Merlin was doing his best to ignore the words while digging in to a bread roll.

It was okay, though -so far, he'd only heard talk about insanity and superciliousness and no talk of anything close to the truth. Not that anyone would correctly guess that he was a thousand year old warlock who looked juvenile and ate bread rolls.

The Weasley twins, sitting beside him, had no qualms about peppering him for information. The redheads scooted closer, their noses sticking into his face.

"Hi, I'm (Fred/George)," the twins said simultaneously.

"I'm Myrddin," he replied, instantly realizing how stupid that had sounded -they had just heard McGonagall call his name, after all.

"So, mate..." Fred began.

"We figured..." George continued.

"Since you're in our year and all..."

"And you beat our school record of the quickest prank on Hogwarts since setting foot into the building..."

Oh. He had a feeling where this was going...

"...You would like to join this club we have."

"We're called..."

There was a dramatic pause, in which a dark-skinned boy from across the table leaned in. All three whispered to Merlin.

"The Mavericks."

The unknown boy's lip quirked as he looked at Merlin. "I'm Lee, Lee Jordan. With you in our group, we would have four members."

George leaned even closer.

"We would be the second havoc-wreaking four-person 'M' group to enter Hogwarts. The second in a long line of Marauders, Mavericks, Misfits, Mischief-Makers, Mutineers, Merry-Andrews -"

"You get the point," Fred cut in, and there was an excited gleam in his eye. "What do you say?"

There was another silence. Merlin considered his options.

There weren't very many options to consider. Merlin's eyes shifted from Fred, to Lee Jordan, to George, and a dangerously crafty smirk spread across his expression.

"So...who do we prank first?"

* * *

Someone should probably go save Hogwarts before the Marauders Mark II blow it up. I have no idea where this is going, but things are definitely going to spiral up from here...

And thanks to all of you terrific reviewers - Vicky, xxMutantAndProudxx, Guest, Female whovian, Uniformal Sorrelle, VikingSong, StormPetal, DragonShadowQueen, SakuraKoi, HarryCriesForDumbledore, Just Crucio It, and Jayfire. Thanks to VikingSong for reviewing my other stories, too. I had a two week break from life to go to camp and my reviews doubled.

Chapter three will be posted within the next two weeks, hopefully. That means maybe even tomorrow, because I honestly have no idea. Check back...sometime...

whenithitsthefan


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks to Teekalin for giving me the idea of why, exactly, the Sorting Hat was silent. Everyone's reviews have been fantastic, and I've gotten a lot of helpful pointers from several of you. This chapter is a bit longer than the others at the request of Teekalin as well.

In curiosity, has anyone heard of Apple Horse? They're a band. Filthy Halls, Devil's Land...?

I'm glad that people got the YOLF :)

And about the Hat in the previous chapter; Google Images and about a third of the internet disagrees with me, but I stand firm in my belief that MERLIN IS A HUFFLEPUFF. For this story's purposes, though, I needed him to be in Gryffindor, so I needed to find away around that and I thought to myself BWAHAHAHA (cue Sorting Hat shutdown).

* * *

The Sorting Hat watched wearily as the students filtered from the Hall. It had seen thousands of students under its brim -never had it encountered a student quite like the one that it had just Sorted.

The boy -Myrddin Emrys, from what it had heard Minerva McGonagall call -hadn't let a single thought slip through his mind. The Hat couldn't talk to him, and the boy couldn't talk to it. It had no idea what the boy had been thinking, and only an Occlumens ten times the mental strength of someone like Albus Dumbledore could stop the Hat from reading thoughts.

Did this boy mean trouble for Hogwarts school, the Hat wondered? It briefly considered mentioning its lack of mental contact with the student to Dumbledore, but dismissed the fleeting idea. It spoke of no Sorting, not to anyone. It was its number one rule. It would not break it, even for one so mysterious as Myrddin Emrys.

The Sorting Hat closed its eyes and settled into a walled meditation, thinking of words that rhymed with 'badger.' It would think of Myrddin Emrys no more. It was not its job to be curious.

* * *

Merlin was initiated into the Mavericks that night.

"It's every prankster's rite of passage," Fred told him earnestly as the four boys crept from the Gryffindor common room.

"It's a solo mission," George added from Merlin's left.

"It's a bit cliche, but definitely worth it," Lee Jordan admitted with a finalized tone.

Merlin still had no idea where they were going. Fred kept checking some sort of moving map that he held in his hand, and miraculously, the quartet ran into no one and nothing.

"What is that?" Merlin asked curiously, peering over Fred's shoulder. "How does it work?"

The other three boys glanced at each other, and something seemed to pass before them before they made some sort of decision.

"It's a map that shows where people are," Fred told Merlin. "Anywhere in the castle. We nicked it last year -only figured out the password this summer."

"See, this is our little cluster here," George pointed at the map. "It shows all of our names, but you can't really read them now because they're so close together."

"The map never lies," Lee added solemnly.

Merlin frowned. _Shows names...never lies..._something bothered him about that, but the thought was pushed from his brinked thoughts with George's next words.

"We'll tell you more about it later."

They walked in silence for several more minutes.

"Filch," Fred hissed suddenly, and Merlin found himself violently pulled sideways into a niche in the wall. "Shhh!"

The four students stood perfectly still. Merlin clapped a heavy hand over his mouth to stifle his breathing.

"...State of this corridor," he heard as dragging footsteps lurk past their impromptu hiding place. "Idiot students can't ever clean up after themselves, no, they expect poor Filch to..."

The footsteps moved further past until they were gone around a corner. Merlin let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding as the four appeared again in the hallway.

"Where's Norris?" George asked, peering at the map over Fred's shoulder.

"Norris?"

"Filch's climbed-from-the-depths-of-Voldemort's-soul cat," Fred explained. "He's practically married to her."

Mrs. Norris was near the Gryffindor common room, half a school away from their current location.

"What's the actual thing that I'm supposed to do, if you don't mind?"

In unison, three fingers pointed down the hallway towards where Filch had turned the corner.

Merlin's expression took a few moments to morph from puzzlement to comprehension, and then back to confusion.

"You want me to prank Filch," Merlin stated.

Nods. Grins.

"Solo mission, remember," Lee warned.

"You'll be rated on a scale," George told him, holding up ten fingers.

"Deadline is tomorrow, at dinnertime," Fred added.

"Ready -"

"Set -"

"GO!"

And the three boys sprinted away, leaving Merlin with a still-bemused expression and absolutely no clue of how to find his way back to his dorm and no idea of what he was going to do to Filch.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall walked into the Great Hall at breakfast the next morning and stopped dead in her tracks.

Because on the staff dais, next to Dumbledore's Podium of Honor, stood a suit-and-tie'd up Filch.

And next to Filch, perched cockily on an eye-level podium with a bridal gown and a ridiculously oversized veil streaming down her furry back, sat Mrs. Norris.

It was a wedding.

It was a bloody _wedding _in a children's _magic school _between Filch and his bloody _CAT._

And the worst part of it all was Filch's expression...

It was an expression of pure mesmerized infatuation as he stared lovingly at Mrs. Norris. If the world were a muggle cartoon, Filch's normally-dark eyes would be replaced by plump, rosy hearts.

Minerva was the first actual teacher to arrive in the Hall for breakfast that morning, but there were plenty of students -the majority of them sniggering behind fists at the scene.

Above the lovely couple hung shimmering golden words.

_PERFORM THE MARRIAGE RITES, BREAK THE SPELL!_

_LOVE FROM_

_THE MAVERICKS_

Minerva's gape widened. _Oh, Merlin..._

And seeing as none of the students were likely to take charge (least of all that guffawing fourth-year cluster at the Gryffindor table) it was up to her to break the enchantment.

Minerva pulled her wand from the folds of her robe.

"Finite!"

"Finite Incantatem!"

"Alterum Odio!"

"Amossit!"

Nothing, nada, zilch, zot.

Minerva looked at the couple.

She looked at the aureate words.

She looked back at the couple.

_If I ever find out who staged this, I will cast a spell to make their intestines declare war on their body..._

But in the meantime, she had marriage rites to perform.

_Get it over with. Get it over with. _

She stepped up the steps to the dais, where both Filch and Mrs. Norris turned their heads to look at her expectantly.

_Marriage rites, marriage rites. What the heck are marriage rites? I don't know any! _

Every eye in the Great Hall was no longer on Filch and the cat, but on her.

"Do you, Mrs.," Minerva choked out as she stood before the man and...woman, "_Norris, _take this _man _to be your -" another cough, "_beloved _husband?"

Now every student in the Hall couldn't breathe for laughter. _...So maybe it is a _little_ funny..._

Mrs. Norris meowed in answer.

"...And do you...Filch...take this..." she had to stop for an entire half-minute to compose herself. "_Cat _to be your beloved wife?"

Filch stood up even straighter, proudly looking down at his to-be-wife. "I do," he responded, with more conviction than she had ever heard him muster.

_Well, they can't exactly bind wands together or anything, so... _

"Then you may -"

The Hufflepuff table all fell out of their seats.

"Kiss -"

The Ravenclaw table shook.

"-The bride."

As the rest of the room died, Filch leaned in to his pet cat-bride, eyes closed, about to kiss his wife.

And then his brow furrowed.

His eyes opened a crack.

"What -" he began in complete un-Filch-like confusion, but Minerva couldn't hear the rest of his sentence over the rest of the Hall's overwhelming laughter.

* * *

Both Filch and Mrs. Norris had retreated to Filch's rooms out of embarrassment (probably not the best move on their part, as there were already so many rumors circulating around the school, and now people were making up stories as to what _exactly _the caretaker and his cat were doing in there). It was with great mirth that Friday afternoon that Merlin and the other Mavericks made their way down to his first class of the year -Herbology.

"BEST bloody thing I have seen in my LIFE," Lee Jordan praised, and Merlin grinned. "Where did you even get that idea?"

Merlin shrugged modestly. "Just thought of it after what you said yesterday, about how Filch was practically married to his cat. So then I thought, what would happen if Filch _actually -"_

Fred and George were laughing too hard to say anything.

"Where did you get the materials?" Lee continued. "I mean, a love potion takes a few days to brew, right? But you only had a few hours..."

Merlin waggled his eyebrows. "Can't tell," he told them. "Tricks of the trade and all that."

"But -"

He tuned out their complaints. In reality, he hadn't used a love potion, just a rather weak spell of the Old Religion. The funniest part of the spell was that it was only supposed to reinforce love, not make it appear from nowhere. So either Filch had a very susceptible mind, the spell was more powerful than he thought, or Filch actually had feelings for his cat.

He wasn't going to tell his new friends that, though. Filch had been humiliated enough. He felt a bit guilty, actually, but when he voiced the thought to the Mavericks, they seemed to share a different opinion.

"He deserved it," Fred stated with conviction. "He's been torturing students for too long! He needed to be shot down a peg or two."

"Or a hundred."

"Yeah, or a hundred."

Lee raised an eyebrow at them. "You do realize that you two prank him practically every day, right?"

They came to the Herbology Greenhouse III, and the class filed in.

"Not every day, Lee, that's a bit much."

"We'd have no time for anything else."

"We're very busy men, you know."

There were snorts all around, but their conversation died down as their teacher entered.

The Herbology teacher was a plump sort of woman with a grey fuzz lump on her head and nauseatingly vivid earmuffs failing to contain her hairdo. They plopped down around the woman's ears.

There were earmuffs on the table for the class as well. Merlin's were red and blue, and he grinned mentally at the irony of the colors. In only a few minutes, she had them hard at work.

"...And, PULL!" Professor Sprout commanded the class in a carrying voice, and fifteen shrill voices joined her shout as the students (Ravenclaw and Gryffindor) tugged hard at the leafy stems of the Mandrakes.

The class winced in unison at the Mandrake babies' cries. Merlin cast a deafening charm over his earmuffs ("Söphr!") and gave a sigh of relief as the noise was reduced to a slight buzzing instead.

It took quite a while, but by the end of the period, fifteen plant-babies were safely wrapped in soil and the earmuffs were cautiously removed.

It was an afterthought that Merlin had then. When no one was watching, he muttered a quick spell over the entire greenhouse and all of the plants within, and grinned.

* * *

Merlin remembered only later what had unnerved him about Fred and George's description of the Marauder's Map. He needed to get his name off the map, he knew, or his secret would spill and he would have to make up some unconvincing lie about how 'Merlin' was his birth name and he didn't like it or something and changed it to 'Myrddin'. That night, past midnight in the common room, he lay in bed listening to the snores of his dorm mates. He couldn't be sure that they were all asleep, and he didn't know any spells to check, so he crossed his fingers and crept forward to the trunk at the foot of George's bed, where he was sure he'd seen George stuff it earlier that night.

It was locked, but he bypassed it easily with nothing more than a whispered _tonspringe _and a flash of gold. There was the Marauder's Map, nestled against other sheets of parchment. It was blank, but it was more worn than the other parchments and he could faintly see the strong magical signature left on the page.

He thought back twenty-four hours. _What was the password that Fred spoke to use the Map? _

He couldn't remember. Something like..._I swear I am causing mischief _or _I swear to wreak havoc _or...

_I swear that I am up to no good? _

He tried it, but it didn't work.

_Come on, memory! _Merlin thought frustratedly. _You're a thousand years old, surely there's some sort of spell to make you remember that you've learned..._

Nope, nothing. But this was _important..._

He refused to delve into Fred or George or Lee's minds to get the answer.

Then it came to him.

_Solemnly! That's it! _

Eagerly, he recited the entire password.

_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. _

NOTHING.

The parchment remained infuriatingly BLANK.

Was that the wrong password?

No, he was sure that was it. Positive. So why...

And then a memory came to him, of Fred Weasley tapping the map with his wand.

His bloody _wand. _

_Oh, for the love of Camelot..._

He needed to use a wand to get the Map to work!

_Great. Now what? _

There was a wand on Lee's bedside table to his right, but even if he nicked it he'd have no way to use it. Modern wizard's magic tainted the Old Religion, which was why the Old Religion refused to let Merlin simultaneously use both. If he used a wand, ever, he would lose his ability to call on his _normal _magic. Not to mention that his ties to the Old Religion would be severed, which was what was keeping him alive in the first place.

He shuddered. No, he wasn't going to use a wand. Stuffing the Map back into George's trunk, he closed the lid with a click and left the room to go to the common room to think. Sighing, Merlin plopped down on one of the common room's scarlet plush couches and stared contemplatively into the ever-crackling enchanted fire.

He would have to wait for someone else to whisper the password and then snag it. Then use some sort of charm to convince the map that he really was Myrddin Emrys.

Or he could change his name legally. Somehow.

If worst came to worst, he could always just _burn _the stupid thing.

His thoughts gradually shifted onto other topics, though. Soon he found himself thinking of the past couple of days.

He'd woken up three days ago.

Already, there was more activity in this school than he had had in the entire tenth century.

He had seen the red-headed girl -Ginny Weasley, he had heard from his fellow Mavericks -at lunch earlier that day. She looked completely innocent, completely unlike the crazed blood-covered girl he had seen in the hall. She hadn't even flinched when she had seen his face, which made Merlin wonder if she even remembered him. Was she aware of what she had been doing?

He had also heard Harry and Hermione discussing the mysterious 'me' who had left them a note. He wondered how long it would take them to figure out that 'me' wasn't a title, but his initials -Merlin (or Myrddin, rather) Emrys.

_Hopefully, though, by the time they figure it out the danger will be passed and I will be long gone from this bloody school!_

And then there was Albus Dumbledore.

Merlin was positive that the man was suspicious. After Tom Riddle, someone like that Headmaster couldn't not be, really. He had no doubt that Dumbledore would be doing research into him and his family, of which he would undoubtedly find nothing, and into the Druids. If Dumbledore confronted him about anything at all that could lead to Merlin's true identity, Merlin knew regretfully that he would have no choice but to Obliviate him (his version of Obliviate, anyhow).

Merlin was so lost in his thoughts that he nearly didn't notice when the portrait door covering the entrance slammed. He jumped, raising his right hand a bit, but lowered it when he didn't see anyone.

_"Revabyrrden,"_ he muttered, and the spell came back negative; Merlin was the only person in the room, visible or no.

Which meant that whoever had closed the portrait door had snuck past him -they might not have even noticed he was there, Merlin was well concealed in the shadows -and was now outside the Gryffindor common room.

This was where Merlin's curious part came in.

He muttered a quick spell to conceal himself from the naked eye, the same spell that he had used earlier, and strode hurriedly over to the portrait hole. Peeking out into the hallway, he caught a glimpse of a red mane of hair disappearing behind the corner.

Ginny Weasley.

He was about to follow her when he heard a _creeeeeak_ behind him.

Jumping a bit, he turned to see a sandy-haired boy holding a muggle (for lack of a better word) camera to his chest protectively. He was about to move into the shadows when he remembered that he was already unseen, and instead obligated to move out of the path of the bright-eyed photographer.

The boy moved in the same direction that Ginny had gone. When the boy turned the same corner that the girl had disappeared around, he came to an empty hallway.

He had absolutely no clue where Ginny had gone from _there, _though. He didn't know any tracking spells (he'd never had any reason to use them before he'd been charmed to sleep) so he had no way to find out.

Maybe if he increased his hearing, he could -

Or the Map!

Except, _oh, yeah, _he couldn't turn the bloody thing _on._

He had a number of options to follow Ginny, but the camera boy was moving forward already. Picking quickly, he fell into step behind the boy, muttering another spell to increase his hearing. Maybe if Ginny was being loud, he'd be able to follow her...

_Kill._

What was that?

_Kill!_

It was a dull hiss, but it translated into Merlin's ears easily. Was that a person speaking with pronounced s's, or a different language entirely filtering through Merlin's ever-present translator spell?

_And the camera boy was following the hiss. _Not knowingly, probably, but he was headed in the general direction all the same.

He crept after the noises and the boy, keeping his eyes peeled for movement from ahead. The camera boy was bouncing on the balls of his feet in something that Merlin recognised as wary excitement. They didn't meet anyone in the hallway except for Peeves, who swept past without bothering them, and Lockhart, who rushed by muttering to himself. The boy ducked into an alcove, and Lockhart passed none the wiser.

And then, as they passed the girl's bathroom near the hospital wing, there was movement.

A LOT of movement.

There was something big in the corridor up ahead, writhing in the darkness, and Merlin had a sneaking suspicion that he knew why it was here.

Still invisible, he cast his palm out and whispered urgently.

_"Amundao oss, bord fryddaru!"_

The boy, who had been about to raise his camera to his eyes, instead looked back to where Merlin had been in bewilderment as a shimmering blue-white wall appeared before the two.

"Who -" The boy began.

_KILL!_

It was the hissing language again, from the corridor ahead, and the boy must have heard it too (or some garbled untranslated form of it) because he jumped violently, turned, and froze, his entire posture rigid.

Not 'froze' as in the literal sense -he was still moving, blinking furiously, as if unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Merlin turned his head as well, keeping his shield up.

It was a huge creature, unnaturally gigantic like something that could come from a muggle storybook. Its diameter stretched from one side of the corridor to the other, and its body was covered in a mass of dulled greenish scales. Merlin couldn't see its face -it was turned to the left, and back, as if awaiting orders from something behind it.

The grandeur of the creature was somewhat lost on Merlin. He knew Kilgharrah, after all.

_Had known._

Not to mention that he was probably older than the snake itself.

"Forbearn!" Merlin shouted, not entirely realising that his invisibility spell had dropped. "Acwéle!"

A fireball materialised before Merlin and shot itself at the snake, directly at its scaly hide. The snake reared before the fire collided with it, and whipped its head around to the source of the spell.

And through the shield, Merlin saw the creature's eyes.

* * *

Am I that evil? Maybe I am...

I'm sure that someone's noticed this, but in my story I've been mixing UK spellings with US spellings. This is because I sometimes write chapters on my phone, and my phone has a UK keyboard that I haven't gotten around to fixing. If it bothers anyone, let me know and I can change them (aagh, effort)!

Also -I know that crossed fingers wasn't actually used as a sign of luck until at least the seventeenth century, so Merlin wouldn't know about it. I like to think that it's his own personal sign that he made up. Who knows -maybe in this AU he actually started the trend. Or he picked it up in the last few days. The Weasley twins do seem to need a lot of luck to get away with their schemes...

Thanks to reviewers, favoriters, followers, PMers, and readers in general...you guys are awesome!

whenithitsthefan


	4. Chapter 4

Let's all cuddle together and worship the BBC/Rowling gods. (That suffices as the disclaimer that I forgot to put in chapter one, right?)

You know when you've been walking around all day with chocolate on your face and then you get home and look in the mirror and wonder why everyone is too polite to point out the gigantic dung-like thing smeared across half of your chin? That's how it shouldn't be. If anyone spots an error, tell me :) I am ONE person and I don't have a beta to check for any inconsistencies, so I rely on my readers to point out to me anything that I probably have missed (and give me ideas, and point out typos). Tack!

* * *

Dobby disappeared just as the Hospital Wing's doors flew open and several shuffling figures entered. Harry's eyes flew shut and he pretended to be fast asleep, facing the opposite direction on his pillow and silently cursing the house-elf for sabotaging his entire year.

All thoughts of Dobby flew from his mind when he heard the sombre tones of a conversation.

"Set them here," Madam Pomfrey's voice shook.

"...What could do such a thing? And...what is wrong with the boy's eyes?"

It was the hushed question posed by Minerva McGonagall. The answering voice was that of Albus Dumbledore.

"Something Dark," the old wizard responded heavily, not answering Minerva's second question. "The boys were lucky -they escaped with their lives. They should wake soon with the help of the Mandrakes."

A third voice entered the conversation -Pompona Sprout. "The Mandrakes are growing at an impossibly fast rate. They've already matured to the equivalent of teenagers in the space of a few hours -they should be ready in only a few days."

"It's unusual for Mandrakes to grow so fast?" Minerva McGonagal asked, frowning. Harry could see, from the corner of his eye, Sprout's nod.

"This is beyond impossible. It takes Mandrakes several months to mature to fully-grown adults. Never this fast. I haven't a clue how they managed it. They aren't particularly unpredictable plants -all they do is cure various forms of Petrification."

A long pause.

"There have been many strange happenings about this school as of late," Dumbledore mused thoughtfully. "The Mandrakes, the message and whoever disrupted it, the roosters, the cat...and how the boys managed to escape from their attacker with their lives."

"Perhaps _they_ didn't mean to kill them," McGonagall suggested. "Maybe _they_ Petrified the boys as another warning of some sort..."

Harry saw Dumbledore frown. "There was blood, on the floor, down the hallway from where the boys were found, as if the boys fought back. I just missed their attacker -I stepped in the blood, actually. I should have Severus take a sample."

Harry's eyes flew shut again as the adults shifted.

Dumbledore continued. "I suspect that Mister Emrys may have played a part in warding off the attacker. Minerva, there is something I wish to tell you about the boy, as you are his Head of House I think it is only right that you should know, which should answer your question about the boy's eyes. In my office, I think. Goodnight, Pompona, Poppy..."

Four pairs of footsteps departed from the Wing, leaving Harry alone in a dark room with two petrified boys and a number of questions. He shifted slightly in his bed, and the light of the moon out the window caught the silver of Colin Creevey's camera and the sharp angle of Myrddin Emrys's cheekbones.

* * *

"I'm telling you, Hermione, there's something definitely off about him," Harry told his friends at the breakfast table the next morning. He had been released from the Hospital Wing early, because he assured the nurse that he was fine, and they were running out of beds anyways (Ginny had been released as well -she had had boils all over her face from where she had been hexed by another first-year). "Why would the basilisk attack him? Emrys is a very magical name -apparently descended from Merlin himself. If I were looking for students to kill, I would pick off the first years like, well, Colin. They wouldn't be able to fight back. But Myrddin...you don't know what he's capable of, it's too much of a gamble."

"There are so many rumors circulating around him, it's a bit hard to know which to believe," Ron told Harry sympathetically. "I wouldn't be too hard on yourself."

Hermione was chewing her lower lip.

"There's something that I'm missing," she vented frustratedly. "There's more than one something that I'm missing, but I'm obviously thick and I can't see how anything connects. Ugh!" she stabbed her fork into the Gryffindor table, not realizing that she had indirectly insulted Harry and Ron by insulting herself. When she took her hand off of her fork, it stayed stuck in the table.

"Aaaanyways," Ron changed the subject as Hermione was obviously tetchy about the previous one, "how's that letter coming along? Do you know who it's from yet?"

In truth, Harry hadn't given a second thought to it since receiving it under his pillow. He had been too caught up with all the other events to worry about the mysterious letter warning them and urging them to 'talk to the redheaded Gryffindor girl," though Harry didn't really see how Ginny could help them sort out this mystery.

"Oi!" Ron called down the table at his sister, who ignored him. "Ginny! Hey! We need to talk to -"

Instead of turning to face her brother, Ron's sibling stuffed the last of her potatoes into her mouth and slung her books bag over her shoulder. She practically sprinted from the Great Hall.

Ron snorted and went back to his food. "Girl troubles," Harry heard him mutter.

He wasn't so sure that was the problem. Hermione seemed to be of the same mind -she was watching the place where Ginny had disappeared from the Great Hall, a frown of puzzlement gracing her features.

* * *

If the remaining Mavericks had looked at the Marauder's Map at that moment, they would have learned several interesting things.

First of all, there was a student in the hospital wing, laying in the bed of Myrddin Emrys, with the face of Myrddin Emrys and the body of Myrddin Emrys and the mind of Myrddin Emrys whose name was certainly _not _Myrddin Emrys. But they didn't look at the map, and so they didn't know.

Secondly, there was a certain person lurking around a certain girls' bathroom who certainly should _not _have been lurking around that corridor at that moment. They shouldn't have been near the bathroom at all, actually, ever. If the Mavericks had been watching, they would have seen the particular person walk into the bathroom, hesitate in front of some old sinks for several long moments, and then disappear.

...But they didn't see, so they didn't know.

Lastly: Albus Dumbledore was pacing in his office.

He'd found himself pacing in his office a lot lately, actually. Fawkes was getting tired of it, he could tell; the bird watched him with bored black eyes, ruffling his feathers every several moments in impatience. Fawkes wasn't sure what Dumbledore was anxious about, but the pacing was certainly making _Fawkes _anxious as well.

There was a stack of books on Dumbledore's desk -ten of them, exactly, the only books in the entire Hogwarts library to give any mention to Druids. Every book seemed to refute the other books in some way or another, debunking and dogmatizing and generally being biased against the other authors.

They all seemed to agree on one definite fact, though: every last Druid had died out. _Every one. _

A direct quote from one of the books:

_"The Druids were considered a completely separate race by most sorcerers. They were the last practitioners of the Old Religion, a form of magic not used by modern-day wizards (858-) involving spells that were much more powerful and independent. The magical signature left by the Druids was so strong that scholars would be able to trace it, similar to how underage wizards are able to be tracked by the Ministry of Magic. The last recorded spell used by any wizard of the Old Religion was during the time of the Hogwarts Founders by Merlin, in the tenth century, coincidentally the day before Salazar Slytherin left the famed school forever." -Meangie Burke, _'Wand History.'

Dumbledore had read that passage several times. There was some sort of clue there, he _knew _it, but he couldn't see how it tied in with the Chamber of Secrets and a fourth-year Gryffindor boy. (Despite what other people seemed to believe, Dumbledore could be unusually thick sometimes.)

He'd been about to confront Myrddin, actually, about the Druids -if the boy really _was _the last of his kind, then perhaps his magic technique should be observed. Then Myrddin had been attacked, and he had missed his chance.

Dumbledore remembered the conversation he'd had with McGonagall earlier, after Emrys and Creevey had been deposited gently in the Hospital Wing.

_"What do you mean, he can't use a wand?" The witch inquired sharply. "How is he still magical?" _

_Dumbledore had shaken his head in complete bafflement. "I don't know," he'd admitted. "Myrddin Emrys is a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a burrito. He's hiding something, certainly, that is obvious, but I fear that if I confront him about it, he will not cede any information."_

_McGonagall's shoulders slumped. "What do we do, then, Albus? The boy could be dangerous!" _

_Dumbledore agreed with her. Despite the boy's sunny personality, there was something darker to him -grief, maybe for his parents, but Dumbledore suspected that it was something more than that._

_"When the boy wakes up," Dumbledore spoke after several long moments, "I'd like you to keep tabs on him. We all have to watch him closely."  
_

_McGonagall's slightly confused gaze cleared up as she understood what Dumbledore was saying. "I'll do my best," she had promised. _

Dumbledore knew that he could count on Minerva. She would get the job done.

* * *

Fred, Lee, and George visited Myrddin in the Hospital Wing that Saturday afternoon. It was odd how quickly the three had become accustomed to having the dark-haired impish boy around in only a few short days of knowing him.

Fred and George settled together on one side of Myrddin's bed and Lee on the other.

The first thing that caught their attention was his eyes.

Myrddin's eyes were opened, and unlike Colin Creevey's fear-filled eyes from the other bed, they were steely and cold. That alone would have been enough to surprise them, because Myrddin's facial expressions were usually so cheery and full of innocence -but there was something else that made them wonder.

Myrddin's eyes were a solid _gold. _

Not a single one of the three boys mentioned the color. They didn't know why the eyes were gold, and they knew that the others didn't know either so there was no point in talking about it. It was extremely unnerving, though. They just all hoped that there was a sound explanation for the color and that it wasn't something like _'I'm part werewolf on my dad's side, and I was in the middle of transforming when the idiot got me. Oops!' _

Myrddin's right hand was outstretched, palm held forward. His other arm was near his face, palm facing in.

"It's weird," Lee remarked. "Seeing him sit so still, I mean."

There was no answer, just a silent agreement that they all knew was there.

"What do you reckon he was thinking?" Fred asked softly. "When it happened, I mean. Do you think he was scared?"

"Doesn't look scared. More...scar_y._"

George snorted. "Blimey, you're talking about him like he's already _dead." _The other two shuffled their feet guiltily. "He's going to wake up in a day or two, Pomfrey said. We can just ask him what happened then. And why he missed half of the fourth-year classes on Friday."

There was a silence. It _had _been odd; Myrddin hadn't shown up for their afternoon Transfiguration class, or their morning Charms. Just Herbology, and that was it.

"What do you think it was, though?" Lee asked, and at George's glare, he quickly added, "just for now, let's guess. What do you think _really _got him?"

"Dunno. Someone with really strong magic, to get both of them in a state like this. I heard petrification's really difficult for a wizard or witch. _Full_ petrification, not that body-bind bosh."

"Speaking of witches, we need Hermione," Fred suggested forlornly, and there were nods. Hermione, they all knew (but rarely admitted) was the sole reason any of the Gryffindors figured out _anything _that went on in the event mill named Hogwarts Castle.

None of them noticed Merlin twitch. None of them noticed when the color of Merlin's eyes changed -from the terrify_ing_ gold to a limpid, terrified blue.

* * *

Merlin was extremely confused.

He was in some sort of dream state, he knew -everything was difficult to focus on and difficult to keep track of, like dreams tended to be.

...And yet everything seemed _clearer, _somehow, than most of his normal dreams (not to mention that most of his dreams tended to be nightmares of things that had really happened at some point in Camelot). In most of the dreams that he tended to have, he didn't have any sense of self; he was reliving his past with no idea that he was in a dream in the first place.

And _this _was _not_ the past.

Merlin's dream started with him in some sort of bed.

He couldn't _feel _the bed under him, exactly; he only seemed to have a few of his desired six senses. He was lying supine so he couldn't see under him either, but he _knew _it was a bed. The ceiling that Merlin could see was slightly golden-tinged, the color that the world turned when he was doing magic, for fractions of seconds.

In front of Merlin's face was his own hand, extended in the air, palm out as if reaching for something that wasn't yet there. His other hand was next to his face.

And he was frozen. He couldn't move, or blink through his haze. It was one of his more panic-inducing nightmares (which was certainly saying something) and he felt utterly helpless. Any person could come in at this moment and kill him, and he wouldn't be able to lift a finger to defend himself.

There were people in the room with him. He was staring at the ceiling, so he couldn't turn his head to see them, but they were definitely _there - _he could hear talking.

"What do you reckon he was thinking?" A familiar voice commented from somewhere near his right ear. "When it happened, I mean. Do you think he was scared?"

"Doesn't look scared," answered another voice. "More...scar_y._"

He _knew _these voices, he _knew _they belonged to someone...but the memory of their names and their faces wouldn't come to mind. _Dreams are weird, _Merlin decided. _They don't tell you the __right things._

"...like he's already _dead. _He's going to wake up in a day or two, Pomfrey said. We can just ask him what happened then. And why he missed half of the fourth-year classes on Friday."

"What do you think it was, though? Just for now, let's guess. What do you think _really _got him?"

_The basilisk. _

Because that was what it had been -he recognized the giant serpent back from the Founder's Era, because Slytherin had kept a pet one that looked nearly identical to the one that had attacked. Slytherin's had been _far_ smaller, but it was definitely the same species. Thinking about the snake, though...the one that he had encountered in the hallway could easily have been a thousand-year-older version of the same snake.

But he couldn't _tell _them that! If only he could move his mouth -

"Dunno," the person continued. "Someone with really strong magic, to get both of them in a state like this. I heard petrification's really difficult for a wizard or witch. _Full _petrification..."

_Petrification. Is that what happened to me? _

Hang on.

_Petrification...means I'm unable to move. It means that I'm locked in a particular position. _

_And right before I saw the basilisk's eyes, my hand was forward...to sustain the shield spell. My other hand...I'd been about to cover my eyes._

Merlin became re-aware of the position of his hands.

_This isn't a dream, _he realized as the conversation that the voices had seemed to get further away. _This is what's really happening. _

_It's a definite possibility that I am locked in a waking nightmare.  
_

Merlin felt a twinge of fear, and with the feeling, everything seemed to come into sharper focus, into a less dreamlike state. It was at that moment that he had begun to feel very, very scared.

* * *

See, Female whovian and Akayuki Novak, I'm not THAT evil. Merlin's still alive, kinda (though I have a tendency to kill off characters, I figured that I'd at least hit double digit chapters before he actually stops breathing).

About the color of Merlin's eyes -I'm not going to explain this later in the story, so I think I'll do it now: I figured that the snake would petrify Merlin's entire self, including the color of his eyes (which were gold at the time of his petrification as he was casting the shield spell). When Merlin 'woke up' in this chapter, his eyes shifted back to their original color because his mind was no longer frozen and his mind was what was controlling the magic.

Also -is 'mandrake' capitalized? I've lost my CoS copy, and the internet disagrees with itself. Anyone have the second book at hand and they can check?

Thanks to all of my readers, and xxMutantAndProudxx for inspiring the idea of Harry/Ron/Hermione's conversation.

whenithitsthefan


	5. Chapter 5

Let's all cuddle together and worship the BBC/Rowling gods. (That suffices as the disclaimer that I forgot to put in chapter one, right?)

You know when you've been walking around all day with chocolate on your face and then you get home and look in the mirror and wonder why everyone is too polite to point out the gigantic dung-like thing smeared across half of your chin? That's how it shouldn't be. If anyone spots an error, tell me :) I am ONE person and I don't have a beta to check for any inconsistencies, so I rely on my readers to point out to me anything that I probably have missed (and give me ideas, and point out typos).

I've gotten a lot of people asking for an Arthur cameo...so keep your eyes peeled for royal prats. I'll fit him in somewhere in this story, if I get around to it.

Teekalin -I'm not from Sweden, but I speak the language. Mostly. You have no idea how happy it made me to see that... :D YAY, SVENSKA!

* * *

Later that Saturday, Hermione Granger was sorting through her booksack, having just emerged from the Potions classroom with Harry and Ron beside her (Harry had had a meeting with Snape regarding his detention that weekend). Her two friends were chatting animatedly about their shared hatred for Snape or something similar, but she wasn't really paying attention. She was thinking.

Specifically, she was thinking about the two frozen students who lay in the Hospital Wing at that moment.

It had been on her list of to-do to go visit them later that day for clues. She had already started a sheet of things that she needed to figure out -_roosters killed, rooster blood, interrupted message, Chamber of Secrets, petrified students. _She'd been sorting through the entire Hogwarts Library, it seemed, trying to find a spell or magical creature or _anything_ that matched up with the clues.

Not for the first time, Hermione wished that she knew an uncomplicated spell to find relevant information in books. She didn't yet. Learning a spell such as that was further down on her to-do list.

"Hermione!" A familiar Weasley voice said, and she turned to see not Ron but one of the Weasley twins calling her. The other twin was behind him, with Lee Jordan straggling just further down the corridor.

She still wasn't sure what to make of the twins. Half of her wanted to be amused by their antics and half wanted to yell at them for the poor underclassmen they'd tormented and that stupid prank with Filch, because that was just cruel. And it was so, obviously _their doing. _

"What?" She asked, opting for a more truncated tone. "If you want a spell to grow tentacles on a person, or the recipe for the Potion of Stalking, or, or -" She struggled to think of examples. "Or anything like that, you can go and stick your -"

"No," One of them -Fred, maybe -cut across her.

"Though I'd never heard of a Potion of Stalking, we'll look that up later."

"Yeah, thanks, Hermione."

She visibly sighed.

"We were just wondering..." It was Lee this time, looking not at all mischievous as he usually did. "...We'd like you to come take a look at the, um...bodies in the Hospital Wing. Just to see if there are any clues that we missed. Cause, you know, you're good at that."

She didn't tell them that she'd been thinking of doing that exact thing before they came along. It occurred to her that Myrddin was in their year -maybe the three trouble-makers had grown fond of the new boy.

"What's in it for me?" She responded after a moment with a kind-of-not sly smile. Fred snorted.

"Oh, come off it, Hermione. We know you don't need anything. You're too curious."

And it was then that Hermione grudgingly allowed herself, with Ron and Harry trailing behind her, to be pulled along to the Hospital Wing.

* * *

"All right...I swear, his eyes were a solid gold only an hour ago," Fred muttered, completely baffled, as he stared down at the frozen boy. "We all saw it."

George and Lee nodded confirmation, and Hermione frowned at them. They lied about a lot of things, but she couldn't see them lying about something as serious as this.

"Okay," the witch responded after a moment, still scrutinizing the boys. "Say I believe you. Why would his eyes change to _gold?" _

They shrugged. "Don't look at us, we're idiots. We don't know anything."

"It looks like he was warding off something," Ron remarked, changing the subject from the color of Myrddin's eyes. "And then, with this hand, he had been about to, I don't know, cover his eyes."

George grinned and nudged his brother playfully. "Cover his eyes? Come off it, that's ridiculous."

Ron's ears turned red, but Hermione was thoughtful.

"Not so ridiculous," she said, shrugging. "It's a good observation, anyways." She wrote it down in her booklet under '_Colin didn't take a picture of it. No time, or interrupted?'_

There wasn't much else that Hermione could observe. Besides the previously odd color of Myrddin's eyes and the fact that both boys were completely frozen, she came up with nothing.

In her notebook was this:

_-THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES O -_

_ *Of, probably. Of what? Of Slytherin?_

_ *What interrupted it?_

_ *Made with rooster blood -DNA spell checked  
_

_-Roosters dying. Killed off. _

_ *For food? Are they dangerous somehow? _

_-'Me.' Who is me? _

_-TALK TO GINNY!_

_-Petrified. Petrification spell would be difficult for 5-year or below, probably that age or older. _

_ *Why would Myrddin's eyes have been gold? Did the attacker make them gold somehow? Were they charmed that way? Did Myrddin cause it?_

_*Why would they switch back to blue?_

_ *Colin didn't take a picture of it. No time, or interrupted?_

_ *Myrddin about to cover his eyes...something to do with them being gold?_

Well, it was a start. In the meantime, she had a free period, and she was going to spend it in the library.

* * *

Basilisk.

It was a _basilisk. _

Hermione stared down at the book she was holding in her hands. It made _so much sense -_it must have been using the plumbing to get around, that was how no one had seen it, and why the attack had been near a bathroom. Myrddin must have known what the creature was when he saw it, which was why he'd been raising a hand to cover his eyes...but wasn't fast enough.

Shuddering a bit, she ripped the page from the book.

Most of her information matched up.

_Most. _

Nothing was explained about the color of Myrddin's eyes...she _would_ write it off as a side effect of looking at a basilisk that the book had somehow failed to mention, but _Colin's _eyes were perfectly normal save for the fact that they were completely frozen. Nothing was explained about why the two students weren't bloody _dead, _because according to the book they should have been.

_The gaze of a basilisk is fatal to anyone who sees it..._

Nothing was explained about why the basilisk suddenly decided to attack the two students, and why they were the targets, and and who opened the Chamber, and who 'me' was, and basically EVERYTHING else about the story.

She would figure that out later. For now, she had to tell a teacher.

Her first thought was McGonagall, but she actually had no idea where McGonagall was.

Her next thought was Dumbledore, but she didn't want to disturb him. And to be honest, she didn't really trust Dumbledore. Harry might, but the old man was a bit _too _enigmatic for her taste.

Then she thought of Lockhart. Yes, that was it -_he _would know what to do! If anyone could stop the basilisk, it was Gilderoy Lockhart.

Quickly, she hurried from the library, clutching the slip of paper in her hand as she made her way to Lockhart's office. It was near the library; it didn't take long, thankfully. With a breath to compose herself and to (fail to) flatten down her bushy hair, she knocked twice on the DADA door.

There was no answer for several moments, and then a flurry of what sounded like papers and an out-of-breath "come in!"

Hermione pushed in hesitantly and had to physically stop herself from covering her mouth.

Lockhart looked _awful. _There were bags under his eyes, and his face was red.

"Sir?" She asked quickly with real concern in her voice. "What's wrong?"

Lockhart shook his head quickly. "Just some students...nothing to worry about." He shook his head. "What did you need, my dear?"

Hermione was curious about his odd behavior -were some of the students _bullying _him? -but she shook the thought off. "Um...I just, uh, found something." She hesitated. "...In the Library. I thought it would be important."

Lockhart frowned and moved forward. "What is it?"

"The creature in the Chamber. I've been doing research, and I think I know what it is."

He waited expectantly.

"...A basilisk."

A slightly shocked expression flitted across the man's face.

"My dear..." he responded, sounding genuinely concerned. "How do you know?"

She held out the paper she had torn from the book wordlessly.

"This."

Lockhart took the page from her and inspected it -though she didn't actually see his eyes move across the page.

He still didn't say anything, so Hermione added. "I'm not sure, but the students who were petrified should confirm it soon."

The Defense teacher looked up sharply at this. "Soon?"

_Oh, he doesn't know? _

"Yeah...um. Apparently the Mandrakes are almost ready, Harry overheard some of the staff talking about it..."

He was studying her now, eyebrows furrowed. The smile that he normally kept on his face was gone.

"I see," he remarked slowly. "Thank you, Miss Granger. I will inform the staff of your discovery, you've been very helpful."

That was obviously a dismissal, so Hermione nodded once and turned. "Thank you, Professor," she called over her shoulder.

Before she left, she pocketed one of the many hand mirrors that Lockhart kept on his desk. He wouldn't notice it was gone.

Just in case.

* * *

Ten minutes before dinner that same Saturday, the Fred/George/Lee trio were in the Gryffindor common room, fiddling with lumps of what looked like edible clay. Ron and Harry were off in the corner, groaning about the huge amount of Transfiguration homework that had been given. At Fred's wave, the two second-year boys gladly left their homework behind on the table. Ron plopped down on the couch next to Lee and Harry sat cross-legged on the ground with his back to the cackling fire.

"Nice of you to say hello, little brother," George teased affectionately, ruffling his younger sibling's hair. Ron swatted the hand away and swept a hand over his hair, effectively flattening it.

Lee wasted no time. "What've you two figured out?" Lee asked, eyeing them. "I mean, about the goings-on around the school."

Harry frowned. "What makes you think that _we _know anything about _anything_?"

"Your best girl friend is Hermione Granger."

_Good point._

Ron shrugged. "Why don't you ask Hermione when she gets back? She's been in the library for _hours, _she must have found something."

Fred waved the hand that wasn't currently mashing his claylike lump into a pancake. "We will, we will," he responded airily. "But we'd like _your _opinions, first."

"It's good to get everyone's viewpoints, after all."

The two friends eyed them warily.

"What are you two up to?" Ron squinted. "What are you _really _trying to ask us?"

George sighed. "They've caught us out," he lamented regretfully. "Cut to the chase, brother dearest."

"All right," Fred started, more excitedly now, leaving his ball of edible clay behind and leaning forward closer to Ron and Harry. "We're looking for gossip. What do you _really _think of Gilderoy Lockhart?"

From behind his back, Lee pulled out a scroll and a quill. The heading of the paper was REASONS THAT THE GIT SHOULD GO BACK TO SIGNING PHOTOS.

A second parchment followed the first, this one holding three signatures on it and a heading that read SIGNATURES TO GET THE GIT FIRED.

Two eyebrows were raised in unison.

"That's not very formal, is it?" Harry asked, trying to cover a laugh.

Lee shrugged. "Doesn't matter, we'll change it later," he remarked. "So. Reasons?"

"We need them all to be from the students," George added, "not from us. It has to be a show of _collective _hatred."

Ron and Harry understood now why the three fourth-years had chosen a Hermione-less moment to talk. She would throw a _complete fit._

"All right," Harry began, readily falling into the idea with barely-restrained glee. "How about..._he has no idea which end of the wand he's supposed to shoot from?" _

The three boys nodded thoughtfully. "My thoughts exactly," Lee commented, grinning a bit as he wrote down the first reason on the list.

* * *

(Elsewhere in the castle, a figure hunched over on a desk, scribbling with a shaky hand and loopy, girlish letters.)

_Tom, I've only known you for a short while and I feel like you're the only person in this school I can really trust. _

_I feel like people expect me to fail. Like I'm another bad one in a long line of let-downs, you know? _

_I've been getting a lot of shifty looks lately, too. Certain Gryffindors (hint, hint) don't trust me. _

_Maybe I'm just overreacting. __Am I, Tom?_

_Also...there's been a slight problem._

_Yes, my thoughts exactly. It'll be a shame, though. I like her, she's nice to me._

_Good night._

* * *

That night at dinner, Dumbledore made an announcement before the school.

"I'm afraid I have some rather sombre news to confess," he told the expectant crowd, and the four filled tables of students -minus three individuals -looked up.

There had been a similar announcement at breakfast, for Myrddin Emrys and Colin Creevey.

Every single student knew what Dumbledore's next words would be. They waited, some with dread and others with somewhat morbid fascination.

"There has been another attack."

The school remained silent, though worried glances were exchanged.

Some of the Gryffindors looked nervously to where they knew an empty seat to be.

"There was a body found on the second floor." Dumbledore's voice carried across the Hall -every student could hear every word unmistakably. "The body of Hermione Granger."

* * *

Merlin had been petrified for a full day. He'd been awake through every moment, unable to move or blink or even sleep because people seemed to keep coming in to the hospital wing and his brain would be jolted awake by their conversations.

Now it was Saturday night, and the room was dark and silent. Colin was beside him on the bed -Merlin had no clue if the boy was aware as he was or not, or if this all was just in his head, or if the same ties to the Old Religion that kept him alive kept him from being fully petrified as well. And so, with his eyes still open, Merlin managed to drift into a restless blur.

Merlin was a naturally heavy sleeper; two hundred years of the Middle Ages wouldn't change that, but he wasn't exactly _sleeping, _more just barely swimming on the surface of his consciousness. So the soft footsteps that entered the Hospital Wing sometime in the middle of the night startled him awake immediately.

At once he was on full alert. Merlin lay still (obviously), hating that he couldn't turn his head to see who it was. Whoever had entered was actively _trying _to be silent. The footsteps certainly didn't belong to Madam Pomfrey. Whoever it was was _definitely _not supposed to be here.

Merlin heard a rustle. To his left, he heard a rustling, and then a _shhh_ wood-against-metal sound of a wand being drawn from a holster.

_Oh, for the love of Camelot..._

They weren't focusing on him, yet. The person was farther away, probably standing at Colin's bed first. Merlin felt another flash of panic.

And then, next to him, came a whispered word, so soft that he couldn't hear the beginning, but the word ended with a hard _T.__  
_

It must have been some sort of spell. There was a dull golden glow from Merlin's left, and if Merlin had semi-control of his motor functions he would have tensed.

The figure had finished with Colin, he could hear. It was moving around the bed, coming for him.

_Come ON, Merlin! _Arthur's exasperated voice echoed in his mind. _You're the greatest sorcerer in human memory, you can defend yourself against a silly stick!_

But he couldn't.

Could he?

Was his magic frozen as well as his body?

The figure crept closer. The person was standing over him, leaning in his vision, and he caught a glimpse of light, orangeish hair-

_YOU! _

_Wait, no. Not you. The other you! I should have KNOWN that was an ACT, you tricky little B -_

His magic was _frozen. _It was completely frozen, there wasn't a single wizard to ever live who would be able to access it.

But Merlin wasn't a wizard. He was a _warlock._

So as the figure held his wand to Merlin's forehead and opened his mouth to whisper a word, Merlin flared out with his magic.

"What -" the person started in confusion as their wand bucked backwards once. "Hold _still, _you stupid excuse for a wand -"

While they were distracted, Merlin strained against the bonds holding his body and his magic back. There was a layer of animalistic magic surrounding his body like a billion of tiny ropes -there had been for the whole day, but it wasn't until the panic of the moment spurred him on that he'd had the willpower to do anything about it. Quickly, while his attacker was distracted, Merlin forced his weakened magic around each of the individual bonds, crushing them into shards.

Again.

And again.

But there were _millions _of the bonds, criss-crossing across his body like a spider's cocoon around a trapped insect. His magic wasn't weakening -his magic _never _weakened -but Merlin was running out of time.

Merlin's attacker regained control of his wand and held it solidly against Merlin's forehead.

A word was whispered.

The warlock's own magic flared out, in a last desperate attempt for self-defense, but it was too late.

Merlin's world went dark.

* * *

I'm REALLY not proud of this chapter. I honestly had no idea how to write it, I had major writer's block and I feel like this chapter and the last are extremely boring. Gah. People are self-conscious about their images and their positions, I'm self-conscious about a Merlin/HP crossover...

I know that Hermione figured out the basilisk bit WAY earlier in my fic than in canon, but my explanation is that she had more clues. Ish. Plus I'm also trying to make this story as AU as possible. Except...this is supposed to be a crossover, and there's basically no Merlin. I'm sorry! He'll come soon!

whenithitsthefan


	6. Chapter 6

NONE OF MY PLOT TWISTS WORK BECAUSE YOU GUYS KEEP GUESSING THEM ALL BLARRRGH

* * *

...The body of Hermione Granger," Dumbledore announced in grave tones to the dead-silent Great Hall. And as he said the last accented _r _on _Granger, _the Great Hall was not so dead-silent anymore.

"WHAT?"

"But-"

"They're after the Gryffindors!"

"It was the Slytherins, it must have been -"

Dumbledore quieted the hall with a wave of his wand and a steely tint to his eyes.

"She is _not _dead," Dumbledore inspirited, and there were various sighs of relief and half-forced moans. "Merely Petrified, as the other two were. When she wakes up, she will be able to tell us _everything. _The threat on Hogwarts will be found, and you all will be able to go about the rest of the school year as normal."

"What happened?" Someone called out from the Ravenclaw table.

Dumbledore shook his head. "As I said," he repeated, "I do not know."

The twinkle in his eyes was gone.

* * *

"It's all been Gryffindors!" Ron growled angrily as they stomped from the Great Hall after Dumbledore had made his announcement. "And poor Hermione...I swear, they're picking the Gryffindors off one by one. We're probably next!"

Harry was lost in thought. Ron continued his rant.

"At least she's going to wake up soon, though, right? He said she's just Petrified. I mean, with the Mandrakes ready it should be soon...then when they wake up, they can tell us and we can arrest whoever did it and go home happy. No harm done, mostly, except for the roosters." Ron frowned. "Colin or Myrddin or 'Mione _must _have gotten a glimpse of their attacker, right?"

Harry broke out of his daze at the word _roosters. _"I don't know if it's gonna be that easy," he muttered, but then his eyes lit up as a thought occured to him. "I bet Hermione was targeted because she knew something. I bet that Colin and Myrddin were targeted for the same reason. They must have found something out together, and the person Petrified them!"

Harry grinned triumphantly, but Ron frowned as he found a plot hole in Harry's theory.

"But how did their attacker know that they all knew?" The redhead wondered -but Harry, being the brilliant Gryffindor that he was, had an answer for this.

"They're a _mind reader!" _He exclaimed -it was the only logical explanation. "Someone's been reading our minds to see what we know!"

Ron nodded thoughtfully. "Makes sense. And I've heard about a form of magic that can do that. Offluancy, or something like that." Then his expression shifted. "But that means...they can read _our _minds, too!"

Harry came to this conclusion the same time that Ron did.

"Oh, no," they said in unison.

The excitement of their own genius was quickly wearing off.

Harry gulped and looked around nervously. "So if we actually did figure it out, and we're actually right...we're _next, _Ron! We have to tell someone, quick!"

Together, the two sprinted down the hall in the general direction of someone important.

From the opposite direction, listening in, the Fred/George/Lee trio grinned at each other.

"Bless them," George said, shaking his head and smiling a bit. "They _do _try."

Lee folded up the Marauder's Map with a tap of his wand, and the three skipped off together down the opposite hallway.

* * *

Severus Snape raised a vial to eye level and studied it intensely.

It was a deep orangey colour, almost like ketchup but less opaque. The liquid had come from the bottom of Albus Dumbledore's shoe. It was blood.

It was the blood of the attacker of Myrddin Emrys and Colin Creevey. And now, it seemed, the Granger girl as well.

When Snape had been sent to collect the blood from where Dumbledore had stepped in it in the corridor, the blood had been gone. Every last DNA trace had been cleaned up -someone had obviously anticipated their moves, and wiped away all evidence of the identity of the mystery attacker that was currently plaguing the school. Snape had had nothing.

And then Albus casually mentioned that he had _stepped _in the blood on his way to the Hospital Wing, the night that Emrys and Creevey had been attacked.

...And so Severus had another opportunity to identify the attacker.

And now he was studying blood. It was obvious now that this blood did not belong to a human being; too thick, for one, and the colour was far off. It would only be a day, tops, before Snape knew.

And then he would tell Dumbledore, and he would be a hero.

* * *

Madame Pomfrey was sitting in the Hospital Wing, on the edge of Colin Creevey's bed. The matron held three filled vials in her hand, each labeled with a large M. The liquid inside of the vials themselves was a gross brownish, the kind obtained when mixing a deep purple and a pasty yellowish color. It wasn't aesthetically pleasing, for sure -but it would get the job done.

"Ready when you are," Dumbledore, at her side, told her, laying a hand on her arm.

Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Poppy were alone in the Hospital wing with the three Petrified students (Pompona had elected not to come on account of what she called 'yard work'). All three had complete confidence in the concoction -the ingredients had been grown, and the potion had been made, and the final remedy was being served to the students by three deeply trusted professors.

Poppy leant forward, first to Colin, who lay on the first bed. She poured the entire contents of the vials into the boy's mouth.

"It should take effect in under a minute," she told them, moving on to the student on the next bed -Myrddin, and finally to Hermione.

As promised, all three students came awake, spluttering and groaning and wincing, respectively.

"Something tastes _bad," _Colin announced.

"And my head _hurts," _Hermione added.

"And everything's _wobbling," _Myrddin groaned petulantly, blinking around owlishly around at the room for a few moments. His eyes, Poppy noticed, were no longer golden.

"Welcome back," Dumbledore smiled, eyes twinkling behind half-moons. "How do you feel?"

"Confused," Hermione answered, putting a hand to her head as if she had a headache. Myrddin recovered his wits next.

"How long...what day is it?"

It was only Dumbledore who noticed Merlin's eyes flicker gold for the briefest of seconds. It must have been some sort of self-healing spell, for afterwards he sat up straighter and didn't seem quite as disoriented.

For someone guarding such a big secret, Dumbledore thought wryly, the boy certainly didn't seem very meticulous in hiding it.

"It's Sunday, early in the morning," McGonagall informed them. "You've all been...unconscious...for a few days at most." Hermione visibly relaxed -no doubt because she hadn't missed any classes.

Colin Creevey gulped back a grimace, and put his hand to his camera as if making sure that it was still there. "What..." he began, seeming to try to remember how to speak. "What happened?"

Poppy glanced at him sharply. "We don't know," she informed him. "You were all found like this. Would you like to tell us what happened?"

There was a silence.

Myrddin was the first to volunteer words.

"I don't remember anything," he admitted. "The last thing...I remember, um..." he blushed furiously. "Filch's, erm, wedding. I remember that. And a bit of Herbology, the next day. After that is fuzzy."

Hermione nodded, too. "I remember Saturday afternoon," she told them. "I went for a meeting with Professor Snape, about my grades. Harry and Ron came with me."

"I remember the Quidditch match," Colin added. "Snapping a photo."

All three adults glanced sidelong at each other nervously.

Dumbledore regarded the children with a calculating stare. "Do you mind if I cast a small spell on the three of you?" They nodded, and Dumbledore held his wand out to the tip of Colin's forehead. _"Aperito."_

A golden light washed over the boy, hovering just on his skin like aureate sand. Then, as one, the dust particles flew back to Dumbledore's outstretched wand.

The old wizard repeated the same spell on the other two, with the same effect.

Dumbledore sighed.

"It is as I suspected," he divulged to the five. "A memory spell has been performed on the students. Though..." He looked at Myrddin suspiciously, "Yours is cracking. It didn't have as strong a hold on you for some reason."

Myrddin blinked back innocently.

"Professor," Poppy began. "Who could have -"

"Professor!"

All six people currently in the room looked up as two red-faced boys burst through the Hospital Wing door.

"Professor," Harry Potter repeated, wheezing, as he caught sight of Albus Dumbledore. "You...not in your office...couldn't find..."

"You needed me for something, Harry?" Dumbledore asked gently, and Harry nodded.

"Ron...explain."

The redheaded boy caught his breath, though he was still panting slightly. "Right, so...we think we figured out why Myrddin and Hermione and Colin were all targeted. It's...it's because..."

Ron gulped a bit at the number of eyes on him -though he hadn't seen yet that the three petrified students were conscious and no longer frozen comatose. Hermione, Myrddin and Colin were hidden strategically (yet not purposefully) behind Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Madame Pomfrey, respectively.

"The attacker is a mind reader!" Ron blurted triumphantly. "And Hermione and the others figured something important out -so they knew it, and went after them!"

It was a sound theory, Dumbledore supposed.

"You can ask them yourselves," Ron continued, as if worried that the adults didn't believe him. "Once you give the petrified people the mandrake potion, they'll tell you -"

"There's a slight problem, though," Poppy interrupted. "I'm afraid I have some bad news. Good news, too, very good, but a bit of bad thrown in."

The two boys stopped talking for a moment, frowning.

"The good news," Poppy said as she moved aside from her position blocking Colin, "is that our three Petrified students are conscious, and in good health."

Albus and Minerva moved aside as well. In a split second, Harry's and Ron's faces went from horrified to the exact opposite.

"Hermione!" The friends chorused as they took in the bushy-haired figure sitting up on the bed. The young witch grinned, too, as the two boys sprinted to her side and tackled her.

"The bad news is that they don't remember anything..." Poppy trailed off, because the three Gryffindors on the bed weren't paying attention. So she just smiled a bit, as Albus and Minerva were doing.

Myrddin swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Professor," he addressed Dumbledore as the Golden Trio hugged, "what exactly happened when Colin and I were...incapacitated? Was Hermione attacked, too?"

"A conversation, I think, for later," Dumbledore remarked lowly. "For now -"

"Professor!" A new voice interrupted, this one familiar, similarly winded to the boys and sounding vaguely terrified. "You need to -" The person breathed in heavily, and Poppy saw that it was none other than Gilderoy Lockhart. "-Come quick, your staff -I don't quite recall her name, but -"

Harry, Ron and Hermione had broken apart, and their smiles were fading as they took in Lockhart's panicked expression.

Dumbledore strode forward to the blubbering man. "What does she look like?" He asked in a dangerously low tone.

Lockhart's jaw quivered. "She's on the grounds, she wasn't moving and it was dark and I practically tripped over her. It's the Herbology teacher -"

* * *

_-Earlier-_

Pompona Sprout was working hard.

She was on her hands and knees, dirt coating the entire lower half of her body and a good portion of her arms as well. She had no classes now, so she was enacting in her favorite pasttime -planting baby Muggle geraniums outside of her greenhouse. Her entire greenhouse was flourishing -plants were growing at near-impossible speeds. It was as if someone had cast some sort of ...spell, almost, over the entire greenhouse. Whatever it was, it had her working extra hard.

The sun was low in the sky and the moon was just visible on the other half of the horizon. It was her favorite time of day.

That is, it _was _her favorite time of day until someone grabbed her from behind and pinned her arms behind her back. She let out a muffled shriek -muffled, because the same someone had simultaneously used a charm to lock her jaw shut.

Her wand was three feet away. Whoever held her immobile was keeping her still with magic, and she had no way of moving.

"Where are the mandrakes?" An unidentifiable voice -probably female, but she wasn't entirely sure -hissed into her ear. "Where are you keeping them?"

How did they know about that? Only a select handful of the staff knew about that!

She hummed something through her locked lips.

"I'm going to let you talk," the person whispered menacingly. "If you scream, you will regret it."

Cliche, but she didn't doubt the truth in that last statement. She nodded once, and felt her jaw massaging its way open.

"You're too late," Sprout gasped out. "The mandrake potions are being administered now." She couldn't help the note of grim triumph that crept into her voice. "The victims are awake. There's nothing you can do."

Instead of the hiss of fury she had expected, or some other angry noise, she heard a dulled breath of laughter.

"Thank you," the voice told her instead. "I'm sorry for this." A pause. "Won't hurt a bit."

That entire phrase sounded like it had been rehearsed, said before, countless times.

Then Sprout realized exactly what the voice was implying. She began struggling a split second before -

_"Obliviate."_

* * *

You have no idea how much I wanted to kill Sprout. You have NO IDEA. UGH I WANT TO KILL SOMEONE SO BADLY

...Sadly, killing Professor Sprout would completely mess up the plot and add so many plot holes that I wouldn't be able to call this piece fanfiction anymore...

I am painfully aware of how SHORT this chapter is. I'm SO SORRY. I had no inspiration. Chapter seven will be another thousand words longer, at least. I promise -I already have it written!

whenithitsthefan


	7. Chapter 7

McGonagall isn't really in character in this chapter, but you have to admit that you TOTALLY can see her doing this.

* * *

The entire school was abuzz with rumors that Sunday evening.

"I heard that Myrddin Emrys is a _werewolf!_ And he tried to kill Colin and Sprout and Hermione before Hermione used a spell to kill _him_ but she got turned into a werewolf in the process_ -_"

"Don't be stupid, Dumbledore wouldn't allow werewolves into the school -"

"I heard that Filch blames Gryffindor house for his wedding and he's going after them in revenge -"

"_I _heard that all four of them are in a secret Muggle cult and they're trying to take over the school -"

"Do you hear how silly you all sound? _Obviously _this was staged by Dumbledore so that he could have an excuse to slip the Petrified students love potions -"

"Malfoy, what the HELL."

"I heard that Filch is trying to find a spell to turn Norris into a human so that he can snog her properly without bits of fur getting in the way -"

"George, that is _disgusting." _

"I didn't say it was _true..."_

And on and on the rumor mill went. A strange number of rumors seemed to be still circulating around Filch and Mrs. Norris, despite the fact that four people had lost their memory and there was a petrifying lunatic on the loose.

And it was that evening that Merlin, Colin and Hermione traipsed into the Great Hall and plopped down near their respective years, having been reluctantly released from the Hospital Wing by Madame Pomfrey. There had been nothing wrong with them, after all, save for general mental confusion.

Each one was immediately bombarded with questions.

"I heard that you're all ghosts now, but the goblins solidified you -"

"Is it true? They told me you needed birth cream to do it -"

"...and that the cucumber enthusiasts are coming!" One triumphant third-year finished, gazing hopefully into Merlin's eyes.

Merlin frowned. "Sorry, what? Cucumbers?"

"MYRDDIN!" A familiarly jolly voice bellowed, and Merlin winced at the trumpeting in his ear. He turned to find two redheads and a darker-skinned boy grinning at him. "We missed you, mate."

Merlin grinned. "I was only gone for a day!"

Lee shrugged. "What, and we can't miss you for a day?" The boy grinned. "Come on, hurry up with your food."

There was a mischievous edge to all three boy's expressions, and Merlin shrugged as he hurriedly finished the potatoes he had spooned himself.

"Now," Fred said clandestinely after the meal had been finished, mostly, and they were out of the Great Hall on their way up to the Gryffindor tower. "A lot's happened since you've been gone."

"We've talked."

"We've planned."

"Some about you, actually."

"Mostly about Lockhart."

_Lockhart. _He hadn't actually been to one of the Defense classes yet (ahem, wand) but he'd heard stories of how _awful _the teacher actually was. He'd also heard of how the DADA position was jinxed or whatnot, and wanted to see it firsthand.

"You see, we've made this, ah...list..."

* * *

Minerva McGonagall watched the Gryffindor quartet exit from the Great Hall behind narrowed bespectacled eyes. Dumbledore had given her hidden orders when she'd met with him after Myrddin and Colin had been Petrified.

_When the boy wakes up, I'd like you to keep tabs on him," _Dumbledore had instructed. This loosely translated to _"When Myrddin wakes up, follow him. As a cat. In your free time!"_

Well, she _was _finished with her cooked asparagus. And she could always grade those bird-to-butter Transfiguration papers later...

The corner of Minerva's lip twitched upwards. She was trying, really hard, not to grin excitedly. She just _loved _when Dumbledore gave her permission to stalk the students.

Casually, the Transfiguration teacher withdrew from her chair and slipped from the Great Hall through the back door. No one saw her go.

It took her quite a while to find Emrys. She hadn't transformed (it would raise questions from the students who _did _recognize her form) and so she was slower and had duller senses than she would have otherwise liked. Nevertheless, she found Myrddin, along with the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan, loitering in the hallway outside of the Gryffindor tower several minutes after she had set out in search of them.

Honestly, she wasn't quite sure what to do now that she'd found him (she couldn't very well _follow _Myrddin now, he wasn't moving). She hadn't planned this far. And she wouldn't really have a reason to be skulking.

"Professor?" Came the impishly timid voice of George Weasley. "We were wondering...can we, uh..." He stuttered to a halt, looking guilty.

"We've been locked out of the tower," Myrddin explained impatiently. "I was in the Hospital Wing when the password was changed and _they_ weren't paying attention." Here, he sent an accusing glare at his fellow troublemakers, who shifted sheepishly.

McGonagall took the hint and gave the password. With thanks, the boys slipped inside the portrait hole, and she watched them go.

When the door clicked firmly shut behind them, McGonagall raised her wand.

"_Vigilamotus," _the witch whispered softly with a gentle swish, and a slightly pale aura drifted across her wand to settle across the door.

Pleased with her work, McGonagall turned heel and strode swiftly back down the hall, in the direction of her office.

If Myrddin Emrys left the Gryffindor tower from now on, she would know.

Every time.

* * *

Merlin grinned as he signed the Anti-Lockhart paper with a flourish.

"One more signature down, only a hundred to go," the warlock sighed in mock longing. The others grinned.

"Ah, it won't be _too _hard," George assured him. "I mean, half the school already thinks he's a nutter..."

"The male half, you mean."

George just shrugged in a way that could easily mean agreement or the opposite.

Most of the rest of Gryffindor house were pouring in now, having just gotten finished with supper. Ron, Hermione and Harry climbed in through the Gryffindor portrait hole as well, and promptly moved across the room to sit with the Mavericks.

Merlin was uncomfortable around the trio. They _obviously _didn't trust him. Ron just didn't seem to like him, Hermione was constantly trying to figure him out, and Harry...he didn't really know what was going on in Harry's mind.

Hermione plopped down right next to him, and Merlin actually had to force himself not to edge away from the witch nervously.

"Tho ah you thill thying that Lockhawt thing, then?" Ron asked the twins with his mouth full as he caught sight of the paper that they were putting away. _So are you still trying that Lockhart thing, then? _

The twins seemed to realise what Ron had said, and they shook their heads frantically as Hermione looked away to scrutinize Ron.

"Lockhart thing?" She frowned. _"What_ Lockhart thing?"

Ron gulped, realising his mistake. "Um...well..." Ron couldn't think of a comeback fast enough, and raised his hands in surrender quickly. "I had no part in it! It was _them!_" He pointed an accusing finger at the four Mavericks. _  
_

Hermione shifted her glare. "What did you do to Lockhart?" She hissed in a dangerously low tone.

Four boys shifted with poorly-concealed guilt.

"Nothing, yet," Merlin supplied hesitantly.

"Yet?" Hermione hissed. "_Yet? What are you going to do to Lockhart?" _

"Um."

"Erm..."

"Yeah, well, see, that..."

"Nice going, Ron," Fred muttered from the corner of his mouth to his younger brother. Ron just flushed a deep pink, but didn't say a word for fear that Hermione would remember that he still existed.

Hermione dug her hand into George's bookbag and pulled out a now-crumpled sheet of parchment. She smoothed it out and read it, her eyes flying across the paper and growing more livid with each line.

When she finished, she crumpled up the paper in her fist, and ignored the protests of the Weasley twins.

"I'm taking this to Professor McGonagall," Hermione glared at them all. "You're lucky I don't throw it in the fire."

With that said, Hermione turned on her heel and stomped out of the common room. The portrait door closed with a deafening BANG.

"Well," Harry remarked, and didn't say anything else.

The rest all thought that the word summed up the situation quite nicely.

* * *

"Fred."

_"ZzzzzzZZZZZ."_

_"Fred!"_

_"ZZ."_

Merlin punched the sleeping boy, hard, in the arm.

"Ghaggh!" Fred woke up with wild look in his eyes, roaring furiously as he made ready to lunge at his attacker. Merlin backed up quickly.

"Hey! No, Fred, calm down! It's just me."

The redhead blinked furiously, as if trying to get Merlin in focus. After a few moments, he squinted at the young-not-so-young warlock.

"Whatimizzit?"

Merlin just shrugged. "Midnight, ish."

"Whaddyawant?"

"I need the Map. The Marauder's Map."

"Trunk," Fred grunted helpfully, turning around to pull the covers over his head and go back to sleep.

Merlin pulled the covers off. "No, like, I need you to activate it for me. Please?"

Fred seemed to have woken up a bit more with the loss of his covers. "Do it yourself..."

Merlin pulled the Map from behind his back. "I don't know the password."

Fred frowned. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he told Merlin. "Just tap it with your wand and say that."

Merlin shook his head and handed Fred the map, and Fred's wand, which was lying out on his bedside table. "It's dark, I can't find my wand. Please, just do it."

Fred grudgingly did as Merlin asked and handed him back the map, which was now filling itself with inky lines and small-printed words.

"Thanks," Merlin grinned. Fred grunted again and promptly fell back asleep with a pillow over his face. He'd been too tired to even ask what Merlin had needed the map for, which Merlin was glad about.

Silently, Merlin crept from the portrait hole with his eyes on the Marauder's Map. He was half-invisible, but knew that if he ran into Mrs. Norris somewhere, she would be able to sniff him out, so he had to be careful.

(Elsewhere in the castle, McGonagall woke to a chiming noise emitted from her wand.)

_Clues, _Merlin drilled in his head. _Clues, clues, clues. Where would I find clues? _

After successfully skirting around a shambling Filch and surreptitiously passing McGonagall's office, Merlin found himself on the second floor.

Specifically, on the second floor before a very familiar girls' bathroom_. __  
_

_DNA sample?__ Scuff marks, or a dropped accessory?  
_

None of the above -he cast a quick spell on the hallway, finding nothing. No cleaning spells or forensic evidence. There was, however, another substance covering the floor, that struck Merlin to be very odd.

Water.

The ground was wet, just barely, like it had been flooded but then had taken time to nearly completely dry up. There was a puddle at the entrance to the girls' bathroom, and other random water bodies of various sizes scattered throughout the floor.

And leading into the girls' bathroom was a single footprint. A _fresh _footprint.

Still half-invisible, Merlin stepped around the puddle carefully and edged around the wall into the bathroom.

Why _this _bathroom? Why would someone go in here, at this hour? _Has my secret been found out? _

_Or maybe, _Arthur's prattish voice stated in an insufferable tone, _some girl needed to take a dump. _

Merlin really, _really _hoped that wasn't the case. If it were, events were about to get _very _awkward.

The first thing that Merlin noticed when he stepped into the bathroom was the smell. It was a familiar smell, he'd passed it before...

_That smells like the potion that I use to turn into Dragoon the Great. But something's off about it. _

It smelled _almost _the same. Maybe an extra ingredient. Some kind of potion to change one's form, perhaps.

The next thing that Merlin noticed was the voices.

There were _voices _in the bathroom. And it wasn't just Myrtle talking to herself -it was two _distinct _pairs of voices, female.

Merlin pressed his back to the wall and listened.

"...Took it," a familiar voice vented frustratedly. "Who could have done it?"

"I don't know, I was in the tubes and didn't see..."

"Myrtle, it's _important. _Have you seen _anyone _in this bathroom, at all, besides me?"

It was the first voice again. And it hit Merlin, suddenly, who the voice belonged to.

Ginny Weasley.

Why would Ginny Weasley be _here? _In _this _bathroom, of all places to be in the castle? Because this bathroom was no ordinary bathroom, for sure.

_Well, she has more reason to be here than I do. At least she's a _girl.

"...Well..." Myrtle began in a voice that clearly conveyed that _yes, _there _had _been someone here.

"Myrtle," Ginny warned in a dangerously low tone. _"Who was it?"_

"This bathroom has been strangely active recently," Myrtle commented idly. "Everyone who's been in this bathroom lately's been doing things that's definitely _not _going to the bathroom. I could tell you all sorts of secrets."

Ginny was becoming livid. _"Myrtle, tell me or so help me I will blow up the U-bend."_

"All right, all right," Myrtle backtracked. "Leave my U-bend alone, I'll tell you everything."

Merlin's eyes grew wide. _Oh, no. Myrtle, please don't..._

"There was a black-haired boy, first," Myrtle announced, and Merlin slouched in defeat. _Ginny'll be majorly suspicious of me, now_. "Pale. Blue eyes. Sharp cheekbones. He and Snape could swordfight. Snape would have to use his nose..."

"Focus, Myrtle. What did the boy do?"

Myrtle frowned. "He appeared out of a wall and left. He was one of the boys who got Petrified. Him and the runty blonde kid."

Merlin could almost hear cogs turning in Ginny's head.

"Okay," Ginny continued slowly. "Pushing aside the fact that Myrddin Emrys appeared out of a wall and walked away, who else has been here?"

"You."

_"Yes, _who else?"

Merlin felt vaguely sympathetic for Ginny. Getting answers out of Myrtle was like trying to pry scales off of an uncompliant dragon, one by one.

"Those Gryffindors. They were making some sort of potion, I wasn't really paying attention."

This was new. Merlin perked up and listened closely. Out in the hallway, McGonagall strained her cat ears.

"Gryffindors? Which Gryffindors?"

There was a pause.

"The annoying one," Myrtle commented. "And the redhead. And..." the ghost sighed in some emotion akin to infatuation. "That _handsome _boy..."

"Harry, Ron, and Hermione, you mean?"

There was a silence, but Merlin could assume that Myrtle was nodding.

"That's not all. There's been one more person."

All three listeners held their breath, waiting.

"The teacher. Strawberry blonde."

_"Lockhart?" _

"Yeah, probably. He came the day after the diary disappeared, played around with some of the sinks, and left."

There were footsteps -Ginny's footsteps, pacing back and forth.

"It's all _connected _somehow," the girl spoke frustratedly. "Something about this bathroom...any one of them could have the bloody diary, or someone else completely_. _And what was Emrys doing, why was he in a wall, where did he come from..."

"You could just ask him," Myrtle suggested.

"I will," Ginny spoke determinedly, and Merlin's heart dropped. What excuse was he going to use this time? "Once I get back to the tower, I will march into that dorm and _demand _that he tell me -"

"Or you could just _ask him." _

"Yes, I will, haven't you been listening?"

Myrtle sighed. "No. Ask him _now. _As in, right now. Because he's over there, see? Invisible, but there's footprints in the water and if you look _really closely _you can see cheekbones -"

And before Merlin could comprehend what was happening, he found Ginny's wand at his neck. Surprised, he released his grip on the Marauder's Map and it fluttered to the ground.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid! _Merlin berated himself mentally as the tip dug sharply into his jugular. _All those years of sneaking around Camelot and you still are the worst ninja EVER..._

"What are you doing here?" Ginny hissed, and his alarmed blue eyes met her suspicious brown. "Did you follow me?"

Merlin shook his head quickly. "Passing by...heard voices..." he choked out, and took a gulp of air as Ginny lightened up a bit on the wand at his throat. "Complete coincidence, I swear."

Ginny's gaze narrowed. "Say I believe you," she spoke softly. "What were you doing in the bathroom before? _Why did you come out of a wall?" _

Merlin just gulped as his mind raced furiously to think up an excuse.

"Ah...uh...erm. Well."

_Brilliant. She'll definitely believe that. _

The wand poked further.

"I was, uh, plumbing."

"..."

"My aunt was a muggle, see, and she had this thing for fixing pipes."

"...?"

"And I came in here a while ago, and the faucet didn't work, so I thought that I'd do all of the girls a favor..."

Ginny just gaped at him incredulously -awed by his fantastic plumbing skills or awed by the fact that _anyone _could come up with such a horrible lie, Merlin didn't know.

Merlin continued nervously. "I'm sorry to say that I'm not quite as good at plumbing as I'd hoped," he shook his head forlornly. "The faucets _still _don't work. Which is why I came back here, you know, to re-fix them -and what a coincidence, I met you here -"

_I should probably shut up now, _Merlin's brain told him, but his mouth didn't comply. It tended to talk a lot when under pressure.

"...And I couldn't help but overhear something about Lockhart, and a potion...and what's this diary you speak of?"

Ginny blinked. "You are a horrible liar," she decided. "You are probably the worst liar I've ever known. And I have _six Weasley brothers."_

Merlin just shrugged. "You're changing the subject," he noticed. "What's the diary?"

"You're changing the subject too," Ginny mumbled, but complied to answer. "The diary is a...well, it's a diary. I had it for a while, and then I got angry and threw it away."

Merlin's brows furrowed. "It didn't sound like _just a diary, _from the way that you were talking about it. It sounds bad. Dark."

Ginny removed the wand from Merlin's throat completely and Merlin slumped. Myrtle peered owlishly at him from behind Ginny's back.

"It _is _dark," Ginny admitted, evidently no longer perceiving Merlin as a threat as her gaze slid to the floor. "It...has a mind. It knows things."

"It has a mind. What does that mean?"

"I mean, when you write in it, the diary -" she paused, and her expression shifted to puzzlement, then annoyance. "Why am I telling you this?" She wondered aloud. "Half the school thinks you're a complete lunatic, the other half thinks you're a dark wizard. You're probably one of the top five most untrustworthy people in all of Hogwarts, now..."

"Because I saw you."

Ginny froze, mouth hanging half-open. Out in the hallway, still listening in eagerly, McGonagall the cat crept closer.

"You saw me," Ginny repeated in a robotic monotone. "When?"

_"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened," _Merlin recited. "I saw you, then. You ran."

Instead of fear, or shock, as Merlin had expected, an expression of complete bewilderment crossed Ginny's face. "What is that supposed to mean?"

_She doesn't remember. _

_Why doesn't she remember?_

_She was possessed. _

_Right._

"I don't want to talk with you about this, now," Merlin muttered, and his eyes flickered to the pearly spectral form that floated behind Ginny. Myrtle took the hint, frowning, and backed away, but was still within earshot.

"I can keep a secret," Myrtle pouted, and Ginny snorted.

"As long as no one threatens your toilet, you can. Would you mind leaving us alone?"

Myrtle darkened in anger, throwing a minor tantrum as she blew away and disappeared down the third toilet.

Merlin found the wand at his throat once again.

_"Really, _this is getting ridiculous -" he tried, but Ginny would have none of it.

"Do not speak of this," she hissed at him. "Ever. To _anyone, _or I'll be forced to...investigate further into your _plumbing escapades." _

Merlin mentally kicked himself, again, for the flimsy excuse from earlier.

"Got it," he nodded. Ginny dropped the wand, gave him one last evil eye, and disappeared out the door.

Once she was out, she dropped the tough facade, slumping her shoulders and taking a long breath in. She shook her head then, straightened, and continued down the hall, not noticing the slit-eyed feline peering at her from a nook.

Inside the bathroom, Merlin moved over to a blank spot on the bathroom wall. It was stained, and cracked; it generally looked like the rest of the broken-down latrine, but the warlock knew better.

Behind this wall lay the place where Merlin had slept for one thousand years. He didn't go in -he wasn't _that _foolish, someone could be watching -and instead tore his gaze away from the wall and the memories.

He was about to leave the bathroom when he had an idea.

Casting his eyes around the room, Merlin's gaze fell on a rusty toilet that looked somewhat more broken than the others. He leant down, reaching his hand towards a bit of spare lead piping that had come undone from the backside of the toilet and was hanging from the wall by only a thread. With a quick aureate flash of his eyes, the piping ripped free of the wall. With another flash, the lead piping's gray-rusty color faded, being replaced by a soft brown wood. It lengthened, and straightened, and in seconds Merlin held in his hands a stiff stick that looked remarkably similar to an average wizard's wand.

Satisfied with his work, Merlin climbed to his feet and pocketed his pipe-wand. He picked up the Marauder's Map that had fallen to the floor earlier and exited the bathroom with a flourish.

Merlin didn't notice McGonagall, either.

* * *

I've decided to post this chapter a bit early for no reason other than I HIT 100 REVIEWS! YAAAAY! I LOVE YOU ALL! (See, good things come to those who review...hint, hint... :))

XxPurpleAngel9xX: Well, I am obviously telepathic and can see the future. Didn't you know? :D

Insanityisgood25: Oh, you go to Hogwarts? I haven't seen you around, we should meet up at Hogsmeade! I was on summer break and came across this old unusual thing that muggles call a 'laptop.' Who knew that there are websites that write about the Wizarding World? They call it fiction! Bah!

Littleheartache: I like that idea a lot, I might actually use it (and give you credit, of course). Except I might also just kill someone just for the fun of it. You don't understand, I NEED to kill people. I can't be a psychopath in public, so I let out my murderous tendencies in my writing. Please don't call the cops.

VikingSong: So, funny thing happened the other day...I was scrolling around the Merlin FF archive and I saw an interesting-looking story by none other than YOU. Then I started reading it -it's really good!

EVERYONE: Side note, Sprout isn't dead, just Obliviated. And someone knocked her out. I think. AND ALSO go read _The Prophecy _by VikingSong. It's already gotten, like, six hundred reviews or something like that, and I'm hooked.

whenithitsthefan


	8. Chapter 8

Honestly, does no one else question why the Weasley twins don't ever notice Ron sleeping with a strange man named Peter every night?

* * *

_"Cweþan elra eac behȳdan sōþ verda hwalnid."_

Merlin's palm glowed for a split second with a sapphire hue. As the light spilled across the page, the letters changed; _Merlin _faded into _Myrddin. _The map now showed Myrddin Emrys, sitting in bed, surrounded by Fred Weasley, George Weasley, and Lee Jordan. He'd just sent Dumbledore a letter with Lee Jordan's owl, and was feeling quite proud of himself for checking off two whole items on his to-do list.

Merlin wasn't entirely sure if his name was stable -the map was completely infused with New magic and conflicted with his own magic of the Old Religion, so he hadn't pushed his magic too hard at the map for fear that the map would break. _It should hold_, Merlin told himself unconfidently as he moved to fold up the map.

Then Merlin froze, his eye catching on a stray name in the corner of the Gryffindor tower.

_Peter Pettigrew._

It wasn't the name itself that made Merlin hesitate -it was _where_ the name was.

Right on top of Ron Weasley. The two names overlapped, making them difficult to see, but not _too _difficult.

After staring at the two names for a moment, Merlin shrugged.

_Okay, Ron, _Merlin laughed mentally as he folded the map and stuffed it in Fred's trunk. _What you get up to at night is none of my business. _

Just before Merlin fell asleep, a stray thought crossed his semi-lucid mind.

_Hang on...who is Peter Pettigrew?_

* * *

It was past two in the morning when McGonagall knocked on Albus's door. It was only chance that the old headmaster happened to be awake.

"Yes, Minerva?" Albus asked, looking up from where he had been perusing an old, cracked spellbook. The witch strode into the room with a purpose, and as usual Albus couldn't tell what the expression on Minerva's face meant.

"Something is wrong," she stated bluntly as he blinked in surprised. "Something is _very, _very wrong."

Albus just waited patiently for her to continue.

With a sigh, she sat down at the chair before his table and shook her head, letting it drop to rest in her palms. Dumbledore was the only person that Minerva McGonagall would show fatigue to, ever, but usually she didn't let him see it anyways.

"I followed Myrddin Emrys last night," she stated, and Albus frowned, a bubble of thoughts already popping in his head. "He...well..."

And she recounted her story, of the bathroom and Ginny Weasley and the curious things that she had heard about Lockhart.

"What does it mean, Albus?" She asked, shaking her head. "Is he untrustworthy?"

Dumbledore wasn't sure if she was talking about Lockhart or Myrddin, but Minerva continued anyways.

"I mean, he can't be _all _bad," she muttered to herself, as if in reassurance. "He was sorted into Gryffindor..." then she paused as she thought over her words and realized her mistake -Myrddin hadn't...exactly...been sorted into Gryffindor, after all. "Oh, Merlin. He could be the next Dark Lord. He could have Dark magic -_he _could be the one who opened the Chamber..."

Still, Dumbledore said nothing, content to let Minerva come to her own independent conclusions.

"But what would he have been doing in the bathroom? Why did he 'come out of a wall,' as Myrtle put it, and why..." she trailed off as her eyes widened. "What if the Chamber of Secrets is _in that bathroom, _Albus? What if _that _was where he had come from? _What if the entrance is behind that wall?" _

Dumbledore's expression was grim. "I hope, for the school's sake, that you are wrong," he murmured. "I have suspected for some time now that Myrddin Emrys is more powerful than he lets on. If Voldemort gets hold of him, I fear it may not bode well for the Light."

McGonagall's next words were in a dead whisper. "Albus...what do we _do?" _

"We cannot take action against him, yet," Dumbledore decided. "We will watch him even more closely than ever before."

McGonagall gave a small nod. "And what of this mysterious diary? And Lockhart?"

"Lockhart, I am highly suspicious of," Dumbledore confessed. "I believe -"

"HOOoooOOOT!"

The wizard and the witch paused as a feathery flapping thing burst into the room with a screech.

"HooOOOT!" The thing shrieked, fluttering wildly in a vaguely circular pattern around Albus's head. "HooOOOOOT!"

He plucked the owl from the air gently after a shared look with Minerva and untied the small sheet of parchment from around the creature's claw, unwrapping it and smoothing out the crinkles and folds that creased the paper. The message within was very simple.

_Dear Dumbledore, _

_I've invited myself to join some of the wand classes, starting tomorrow morning. Thought I'd let you know._

_Love, Myrddin Emrys_

Wordlessly, he handed Minerva the letter and her eyes skimmed across the few words written.

The note had been written in a very cavalier way, drawing a thin line between presumptuous and -for lack of a better word -_sassy. _Yes, now that Dumbledore thought about it, Myrddin was _very _sassy.

Albus sympathized with whatever teacher Myrddin would encounter the next morning. He hoped that he wouldn't find a smoking crater where one of the classrooms had used to be, but not much would really surprise him anymore.

* * *

The following day was a Monday. According to Lee's schedule (the twins had lost theirs), they were due for an early-morning Defense class. The Mavericks took every class with Lockhart as an invitation to let out their frustration in the form of 'harmless' pranks. Merlin took the class with Lockhart as an opportunity to investigate the shady actions of their professor.

And so that morning, at two minutes past eight a.m., the four boys strode into the classroom.

They were late. The entire class had already arrived, and were seated in various positions. Something akin to dread was written across most of their faces as they stared at something at the front of the room.

Lockhart stood poised at the front of the classroom, holding a sheet over some sort of container -maybe a cage of some sort. Merlin was tempted to whisper a spell to see through the covering...but it would be too risky, and he'd find out in half a moment anyways.

The Mavericks had missed Lockhart's introductory speech, and they slipped into the classroom just as their disgustingly teacher finished talking.

"...Unlike the pixies I had you all battling last week," Lockhart was saying in a voice that he probably thought was enigmatic, "_This _challenge will be far more difficult. Within this cage, you may find your worst fears..."

Merlin wasn't paying attention.

"I, myself, have encountered these..."

It occurred to him that Lockhart's voice was oddly girly.

"And they _cowered _as I set them aflame..."

_Blalalalalah..._

"...PROVOKE THEM!" Their teacher finished his speech with a mad ocular glint, ripping the cover off of the cage and quickly unlatching the door of the cage with a simple first-year spell.

There was silence for several moments. The class waited with baited breath as Lockhart moved as far away from the cage as quickly he possibly could (namely, into the doorframe of his office, ready to shut the door at a moment's notice).

And then four black forms whizzed out of the cage, falling to the ground and twisting their bodies around, hissing at the students. Lockhart flourished his wand at them.

"Come on, throw some spells! They're not going to go away on their own!"

But Merlin wasn't paying attention to Lockhart at all, now. He was busy staring in horror at the four snakes that slithered on the floor of the DADA classroom.

Because he recognized the snakes. He'd seen them before. The name rose to his mind suddenly, a scene from a place and time so long ago...

_Nathair._

They were the snakes that Morgana had tortured Elyan with, that day when Arthur had been driven from the kingdom. Gaius had shown him a picture of them afterwards.

_"It's a Nathair, from the mountains of Asgaard. Harmless enough most of the time, but with a little persuasion, it can cause a man pain beyond all imagining..."_

And Lockhart had somehow managed to acquire _four_ of them. He had them _locked up _in a _cage. _

What was that idiot _thinking‽ _

The first student raised her wand to cast a spell at the things, but Merlin cut across her muttered _Incendio _with a yell.

"No! Wait! Stop!" Merlin shouted frantically as he tripped over a desk. "It won't attack you if it's not provoked, don't -"

"-Attack it, what are you waiting for?" It was Lockhart.

And then two student-fired curses hit the snakes at once.

The serpents that hadn't been hit reared up as the others writhed, spitting. They began to slither towards the boy who had cast one of the spells -a gawky Ravenclaw whom Merlin didn't know the name of. Another of the snakes was dangerously close to Angelina Johnson...

Merlin's eyes flashed, and the snake was beaten back towards the cage. Where were the other three...?

Most of the curses that hit the snakes succeeded in making the snakes only angrier and more likely to attack. Even one student's well-aimed Reductor Curse skimmed off of the scales and hit Lockhart's desk instead, reducing an entire chair leg to wood chips and charcoal.

_Of course, _Merlin realized suddenly. _The snakes are partially creatures of the Old Religion, modern magic would be hard-pressed to even scratch them...just like me and New magic, they cancel out each other..._

By this point, most of the class was pressed against the back wall as the snakes slithered closer.

_"Cume her fyrbryne," _Merlin spoke then, and the class looked around wildly as a thin bolt of solid fire shot itself at the snake close to Angelina Johnson and consumed it. Merlin felt a small pang of remorse, but then pushed it down. _Us or them, _he reminded himself.

_"Forbearne." _

A second snake vanished, leaving behind smeared ashes across the floor.

There were two more snakes. _Where are they? _

Merlin searched, panicking...

And then somebody screamed.

The class looked collectively to their teacher, who lay moaning on the ground as a snake darted hastily away from his flailing fists. Lockhart was clutching his leg tenderly, and Merlin threw a jet of fire at the third snake which consumed the hissing reptile.

"Uhhhnnngggh..." Lockhart groaned, clutching at his knee. Merlin raced to his side, kneeling down with a spell on his lips to leach the poison from Lockhart's skin.

"What happened?" Merlin asked urgently -if he could groan, he could talk. "Where did it get you?"

With another muttered spell, the knee of Lockhart's trousers ripped off and exposed...

Nothing. Pale skin. There was a nasty-looking cut across Lockhart's ankle, but it looked a few days old at least and wasn't where Lockhart seemed to be focusing on.

"...I bumped it," Lockhart muttered, still clutching his knee.

Merlin just gaped. _What. _

"And it _hurts..." _

"MYRDDIN!" Someone shouted from behind him, and Merlin spun, heart sinking.

He'd forgotten a snake.

The last snake was dead-centre in the room, surrounded by students with their wands pointed at it. It wasn't attacking. It looked more..._cornered. _Scared.

"Pleasse," someone's voice reached Merlin's ears, sounding strangely sibilant. But none of the students had spoken...

Merlin's eyes fell on the snake.

"You can talk," he started, surprised, but the words sounded stupid the moment they left his mouth. The snake turned to regard Merlin with baleful eyes as the students looked on warily.

"I sspeak my own language," the snake hissed. "You speak it too, old one."

_What? _

Oh.

The translator spell...it was still active. But...it only extended to sentient beings!

"Hang on," Merlin frowned, kneeling a safe distance away from the thin creature. "You're _sentient? _But you're a _snake!" _

If the snake could shrug, it would have."Sentient enough to know that you killed by ssiblings, wizard. Are you going to kill me, now, too?"

_This is all too surreal. No WAY snakes have created an entire LANGUAGE.  
_

"They were going to attack -"

"We were not," it responded forcefully. "We were running. You should have left us be."

It was difficult to detect emotions in the snake's monotone, but Merlin thought that he could hear...heartache?

Guilt wrenched across Merlin's entire body like a tidal wave, and he swallowed. "I'm sorry." He meant it. "I -"

And then the snake was picked up by an eagle made of fire.

Merlin jumped back in shock, scrambling on his hands as a gust of heat blew past his outstretched hand. The fire bird alighted on a rafter of the DA classroom and chomped down, hard, on the snake's head.

_Oh. Okay. Graphic imagery. One point to the bird for spontaneity. _

Merlin and several other students gaped up at the fire bird for several long seconds before the bird took off from the rafter, flew across the entire length of the room, and disappeared into Lockhart's wand.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...Sorry, sir," Alicia Spinnet apologised hesitantly, "but was that..._Fiendfyre?" _

Lockhart pocketed his wand, smoothed back his hair and smiled dazzlingly out at the stunned/singed Gryffinclaw group.

"Well," he exclaimed cheerily, completely ignoring Alicia's question, "I think that this has been a _wonderful _class, don't you?"

* * *

"That does it," Fred exclaimed as he and the other Mavericks traipsed up to their dorm for a free period. "Myrddin, I'm convinced that you are the secret lovechild of Dumbledore and Snape."

Merlin snapped into focus at the word _'lovechild.' _"What? Why?"

George snorted at him, and held up seven fingers. "You killed three snakes by yourself while the entire class stood and watched, you used some weird gibberish spells, and you didn't use a bloody _wand," _he listed, putting down three fingers. "That's the Dumbledore part. That, and you're a bloody _Parseltongue _who befriends devil snakes. You have your black hair and pale skin from Snape, and your enigmatic blue eyes from Dumbledore. Come on, your secret's out. Spill."

"I was using a wand," Merlin protested, pulling out his pipe stick to show them the proof. "You just didn't see it."

"Yeah, right," Lee scoffed. "What were the spells?"

"Uh...fire spells. My dad taught me."

"By your _dad, _you mean Dumbledore."

"Yes -no!" Merlin stuttered. "My mother was named Hunith and my father was named Balinor -"

"Those sound like code names."

Merlin ignored them and plowed through. "My dad -Balinor -he was an, um, Parseltongue, but he wasn't bad or anything, it was just a gift that had been passed down through the family. Father to son."

The three looked at him skeptically.

Fred sighed eventually. "I'm sure that if I poked at your story hard enough, I would find holes, but I won't for the sake of our Maverickhood."

"The rest of the school, though..." George tutted. "They're going to think that you're some sort of super-powerful dark wizard now."

"This could actually work to our advantage," Lee remarked thoughtfully. "Why settle for super-powerful wizard when you can go vigilante-style with a cape and cowl and mysterious smoke?"

The four shared grins.

* * *

Later that night, Lee was sitting up in bed. The other boys had already drifted off -the soft sounds of the twins' identical snores filled the room, and there was a darkly-colored immobile lump in the third bed that was otherwise known as Myrddin Emrys.

Lee was a bit of an insomniac sometimes. The other boys didn't know.

He had been fully lucid on Friday night, when Myrddin had snuck out of the dorm and gotten himself Petrified. He'd also been awake last night, when Myrddin took the map and snuck out to go Merlin-knew-where and came back two hours later looking sufficiently shaken up.

Lee Jordan was a lot smarter than people gave him credit for. The Hat had almost Sorted him into Ravenclaw -it would have, actually, had he not objected to the idea of being in a house of wallflowers who _liked_ homework. Just because he liked to learn didn't mean that he liked to _work_.

But the fact that the mystery surrounding Myrddin hadn't been solved yet put him on edge. Lee _needed_ to know. Curiosity was like a bothersome owl. It wouldn't stop plaguing him, the enigma of Myrddin.

Sighing, Lee pulled out the map, tapping it while simultaneously taking a bite from a Muggle NutriGrain bar and garbling the password through a mouthful of sticky granola. The map inked into existence.

There were two Hufflepuffs that weren't supposed to be out this late at night, one Snape patrolling the dungeon area, and a McGonagall hovering just outside of her office. That was it. Nothing remotely interesting or scandal-worthy. Everyone was in their beds who were supposed to be. Ravenclaws, Slytherins, mostly Hufflepuffs, and Gryffindors, all sound asl-

Hang on.

Why...

In the Gryffindor tower, in the fourth-year boys' dorm, something flickered. Lee peered closer.

Myrddin Emrys -no, not Myrddin, what was that name that it was changing to?

Lee glanced at the Myrddin Blob on the bed next to him in confusion, and then turned and squinted closer at the map.

_Myrddin...Merdyn...Merdin..._

The letters rapidly were changing shape. Y's were shrinking, D's were disappearing, E's were swelling to take form, the entire last name _Emrys _vanished.

And then his eyes widened as he read the mononymous name in the corner of the Gryffindor tower.

* * *

I'm HORRIBLE at sending PMs. I'm so sorry! I really want to say that I'll respond to everyone but I know I won't so in your reviews if you have a question that you REALLY need answering, star it (just a little * at the beginning of your message). I'll prioritize and PM you back the answer, as long as it isn't a major spoiler.

A few other notes: school's started for me so I'm going to start confining my updates to my less busy days (Fri/Sat/Sun). Anybody else have school/college/work starting?

whenithitsthefan


	9. Chapter 9

The Hermione confrontation plot twist was suggested to me by Peoples (Guest). The idea is great! I'm using the other half of it in future chapters :)

And thanks to WaitingForLife2Begin for pointing out a mistake I made in chapter seven...urinals don't go in girl's bathrooms! Oops. It's a toilet now.

Lastly, my question at the beginning of the last post was answered by Vicky...apparently in canon, Pettigrew wasn't ever found out by the twins because the map isn't meant to show names in dorms. Good thing I'm not writing canon, or I'd have a plot hole!

* * *

_Just because I'm immortal doesn't mean I don't want to sleep in, _Merlin groaned mentally the next morning as George lit up the room with fireworks (their daily alarm clock). He tried to shut out the _wheeee_ing and popping noises as he pulled more covers over his head to block out the light.

Then the firework-y noises turned to shrieks.

"Aaah! Put it out! _Aguamenti!_"

_What? _

Merlin flung the covers off of himself and blinked at the scene.

The curtain next to Lee's bed had caught fire (it was bound to happen eventually, really) and the magical rainbow flames were licking the mattress of the bed. The flames were no danger to anyone (they tickled a bit when touched) but they _did _have some pretty impressive destructive capabilities concerning inanimate objects, and Merlin didn't fancy living in an apocalyptic wasteland for the next few months.

A wandless George was exacerbating the flames by frantically attempting to beat them out with the Marauder's Map. Lee had a spluttering stream of water spouting from his wand, directed at the curtains, and Fred was still a lump on his bed.

_How can he possibly sleep through this? _Merlin shook his head, amazed, but was distracted from his thoughts again by Lee shouting in frustration.

"I don't know this charm!" Lee wailed. "We covered it in _first year,_ how am I supposed to remember that far -‽"_  
_

Merlin sent a pillow flying at Fred and pulled his disguised pipe out from where he kept it at his waist.

"Aguamenti!" He shouted, pointing the pipe at the curtain and simultaneously thinking a water spell from the Old Religion.

_Brimstréam! _

His eyes flashed gold. No one saw.

Water surged forth from the fist closed around his pipe, washing forward in a tsunami wave onto their wall. The wave crashed into George and Lee, dousing the fire completely and then some: in fact, Merlin had produced so much water from his hand that the non-permeable floor was covered by a good inch of just _wet. _

George spun around and made a mock-disappointed face at an only slightly-soggy Merlin, though he was grinning beneath the expression.

"Aw, Myrddin, you've flooded our dorm." He shook his head and tutted. "You and Myrtle could compete."

Lee didn't say anything -he wasn't even smiling. He just studied Merlin with an odd look that Merlin couldn't quite place. Shrugging, Merlin turned away and caught sight of a bleary-eyed Fred emerging from his cocoon of blankets.

"Wh'yall bean so loud?" He grumbled blearily, blinking sleep from his eyes, and then frowned as he caught sight of the soaked room and its equally soaked inhabitants.

He blinked again, going wide-eyed at the soggy marsh that had once been a dorm.

Three seconds passed.

Everyone stared at each other.

"I'm hungry," Fred announced, tearing his gaze away to fall out of bed. "Let's go get breakfast."

* * *

Surprisingly, there was still a good portion of the student body seated at breakfast when the Mavericks burst through the doors -it must not have been as late as Merlin had suspected. As they entered, wheezing from running all the way from the Gryffindor tower, every student in the Great Hall simultaneously looked up.

And every single eye was on _him, _despite the fact that the George and Lee were dripping a trail of water through the doors.

Merlin shifted uncomfortably as they sat down to the silence. Gradually, conversations started again, and Merlin was antsy as he chewed his potatoes. He didn't function well under intense scrutiny. Lee was still watching him, as were many of the Gryffindors.

_I thought he'd gotten over Defense yesterday, _Merlin brooded. _He's not _still _suspicious, is he? Him and the rest of the school?_

Sighing, Merlin finished his potatoes and dug into his next course, tuning out his own thoughts to listen idly to the conversations around him with his keen hearing. Large ears were good for _something, _at least.

"He even looks scary when he's eating _eggs."_

"Wizard's ED! Sign up here!"

"No, Oliver, don't look at him like that, you might piss him off..."

"Disappeared yesterday, no one's seen the bloody Slytherin since..."

"...Kinda cute, actually, for a Dark wizard."

Merlin was shaken back into reality when one of the Weasley twins (he was too hungry to identify) pushed a piece of paper in front of him.

"Is this another -"

"Anti-Lockhart thing?" Gred interrupted. "Nope, it's almost better. It's for the Wizard's ED class!"

"Flitwick's one of the teachers in charge, should be interesting. I've heard he was a dueling champion when he was younger."

"Well, the other teacher is Snape, but you can't have everything," Forge shrugged, handing Merlin a Self-Inking Quill expectantly. Merlin took the sign-up sheet and scanned the names already there.

_Alicia S._

_P. Weasley_

_Colin C._

_Ginny Weasley _

_F. G. Weasley_

_G. F. Weasley_

_Lee Jordan _

Below that, a new name appeared.

_M. Emrys_

Merlin signed the last _s _with a flourish, nodding at his name in satisfaction, and passed the flyer down the line of Gryffindors.

"Good," a now-identifiable George approved over his shoulder. "First meeting's tomorrow morning -we are going to _rule _this club."

"Right, Lee?" Fred added, studying his friend's face intensely -he, too, had noticed the darker-skinned boy's silence.

Lee grunted in agreement, idly stabbing the fruit on his plate with a fork.

Merlin caught a flash of red out of the corner of his eye -it was Ginny Weasley, escaping from the Great Hall before the majority of the student body flooded the corridors. He muttered a hasty excuse to his friends -something about forgetting to write a History of Magic essay -and hastily jogged/walked from the hall.

* * *

"C'mon, Hermione -a _Wizard's ED_ _class_! It'll be _fantastic!" _

Harry and Ron prompted her eagerly from either side as she bit her lip in indecision, staring unfocussed down at the scroll of names. A blotch of ink dripped from the nib of her quill and fell onto the paper, black soaking into the parchment.

It _would _be interesting, she was sure. The only problem was that most of the Slytherin House had joined -and with the majority of Slytherins and Gryffindors in one room, fighting was bound to ensue.

She usually found herself in the thick of things, with Harry and Ron as her best friends. She _definitely _didn't want detention.

And she had that extra credit for Lockhart due! She could easily be doing that instead of some silly duelling thing...

_Oh, they're right, _she sighed resignedly, putting the tip of her pen to the paper and beginning the letter _H. __I overthink things. _

_Herm -_

Then she stopped.

Because three names above hers -

_M. Emrys_

Something was very familiar about the way that those letters were arranged -besides the obvious reason, of course.

_M. Emrys_

_M. E. _

_Me._

Hermione squeaked in shock, her hand flying to her mouth. Harry and Ron frowned at her.

"What?"

She just pointed to the name, and received two blank stares in reply.

Hermione lowered the hand and regained her composure.

"Look at the _initials," _she prompted. "M-E!"

"..."

_Oh, no _way _they can be this thick..._

"Harry, _me! _The signature on the note! Remember? It was from _Myrddin Emrys! _He's been trying to help us!"

Comprehension dawned on Harry's face, but Ron just scoffed.

"Oh, come off it, 'Mione," he shook his head. "Myrddin hadn't even come to Hogwarts when Harry got the note. That letter was put there a few days before."

_Oh. _She hadn't thought of that.

"But..."

"Ron's right, Hermione," Harry sided, and Hermione inwardly fumed. "How would Myrddin Emrys have gotten into the Gryffindor tower? He hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor yet!"

Harry and Ron didn't _believe _her. And it _hurt. _But she _knew _that she was right. There was something about Myrddin...she _knew _that he had written the letter and was on their side.

"He could have easily gotten in," she argued, glaring at both of them. "He's powerful, remember? After Lockhart's snakes, a portrait wouldn't be a match -!"_  
_

"Even if he _did _write the letter, he wouldn't be trying to _help _us," Harry cut across her. "He'd be wrong -Ginny doesn't know anything. He's a Parselmouth, and everyone knows that Parselmouths _can't_ be trusted."

* * *

That afternoon, the Mavericks crept through the empty hallways.

Lee, George, and Fred were all disillusioned -Myrddin had done it himself, and the twins had to admit that he had done a _very_ good job of it. Other than a faint ripple where their heads were, they couldn't see each other at _all. _

Myrddin himself had a low cowl over his head, and long flowing robes. He wasn't disillusioned.

On the Marauder's Map (carried by Lee -he had insisted on it) in an empty hallway in the dungeons, were three dots labeled _Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe _and _Gregory Goyle_. Next to Draco Malfoy was another dot labelled _Neville Longbottom._

It was very obvious to the Mavericks that there was something bad going on in the dungeons. They'd taken it fully upon themselves to protect their fellow Gryffindors from the snake pit.

"We need a name for this operation," Fred broke the silence. "Like..._Operation Make Slytherins Pee Their Pants _or something like that.

"Operation Dumbledore in Disguise."

"Operation...Powerful Wizards Strike Back."

"Operation Feel The Wrath Of Merlin," Lee suggested offhandedly.

Myrddin squeaked as he tripped and fell.

"Clumsy," George said affectionately as he helped a sheepish Myrddin up. Myrddin dusted himself off, casting a quick worried glance at Lee that Fred barely caught.

"Sorry, these robes are long," Myrddin muttered. "It's hard not to trip over them."

* * *

_"Scared, _Longbottom?"

A trembling Neville Longbottom was backed into the corner. His wand was in his hand as he pointed it at Draco Malfoy.

"I'm not a-afraid of you, _Malfoy," _Neville spat -the threat would have been more substantial if the stick in his hand wasn't quaking violently from side to side. And why was he stuttering?

Malfoy grinned maliciously. Crabbe and Goyle smirked at him.

_Oh, help, _Neville prayed. _Somebody, help..._

"Prove it."

"You're scared, too," Neville spoke suddenly, surprising himself. "You're afraid of your father." It came out as almost a question -he was just guessing -but from the sudden trapped animal look in Malfoy's eyes, Neville could tell that he had hit right on the truth.

"You don't know _anything _about me, Longbottom!" Malfoy snarled. "You should respect your betters! _I _am not a blood traitor, unlike you...you would do well to -"

_"FEAR ME!" _

Malfoy screamed, spinning around to face -what is THAT?

It was Death. That's the only thing it could have been. Neville's eyes went wide.

Behind them had materialized a six-foot-tall smoking _monster, _floating a foot of the ground. Instead of arms, inky black tendrils slithered out from beneath the thing's robes. It was cloaked, and a cowl cast its face into shadow, but two glowing golden eyes were peering out from the darkness...

_When I said I wanted help, I didn't mean _this!

"Who are you?" Draco demanded, but his voice quaked.

"I AM THE DARKNESS!" The floating spectre thundered. "I AM JUSTICE! _I AM DEATH!"_

It took four seconds flat. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle disappeared around the corner, running for their lives.

Neville's expression of terror morphed into one of complete confusion as the cloaked figure's voice changed and it complained in a completely normal voice.

"Let me down now, my legs are falling asleep," Death told something that Neville couldn't see. Hang on, that voice was familiar...

And then Death flipped the cowl back.

_"Myrddin Emrys?" _Neville asked incredulously. "How...why‽"

"Gryffindors care for their own," Myrddin grinned at him. "And we were just a little bit bored."

_We? Who's we?_

"Oi, Myrddin!" The air remarked somewhere to Neville's left -it sounded suspiciously like one of the Weasley twins. "Look at this!"

"I don't know where you're pointing, Fred," another identical voice remarked. "You're invisible, remember?"

_What is going on? _

"Here -next to Neville."

Neville's gaze fell on what he assumed the invisible Fred Weasley had been pointing at -a puddle on the floor.

Fred's voice continued. "So you know how we said that this could be called Operation Make Slytherins Pee Their Pants?" _  
_

"Yeah..."

"Well, there's a puddle on the floor where Malfoy had been standing."

Three seconds passed.

Raucous laughter filled the hallway.

* * *

The hallways were oddly empty as the Mavericks made their way back to the Gryffindor tower (Neville chose to go a different direction. He wouldn't say why, but it was fairly obvious that the second-year was a little bit scared of Merlin). Merlin hadn't taken the spell off of the twins and Lee yet, so they were still invisible to anyone who hadn't cast the spell. The twins were talking quietly with each other, but Merlin wasn't in much of a mood to talk, so he stayed silent in his thoughts at the back of the group.

Lee was also silent.

_He knows something. _Merlin was sure of it.

Merlin knew that he hadn't been being very careful about covering his identity since he arrived. There had been plenty of chances when someone could have figured out any of his secrets.

Someone could have asked the portraits -the portraits had seen Merlin doing who-knew-what since he'd gotten here. Or a ghost could have been following him invisibly.

Had someone been following him this entire time?

Had the spell on the Map worn off prematurely?

Had someone connected his name -_Emrys -_to the famed warlock in wizard legends?

Or maybe there was a portrait of Godric Gryffindor around here somewhere...the bloody Gryffindor had never been the best at keeping secrets.

Merlin wasn't paying attention to his surroundings at _all, _so he jumped as Fred grabbed his arm and hissed at him. _"Someone's coming! _In here! _Quickly!"  
_

Merlin found himself being pushed into a crevice in the wall as Lee, Fred and George crouched, still invisible, in front of him. Seconds later, he heard mad cackling as something whooshed by their hiding place and was gone as quickly as it had come.

"Peeves," Lee muttered -it was the first word that Merlin had heard him say for quite a while.

Fred and George continued their whispered conversation as they started again down the hallway. Lee was walking alone, and Merlin saw his chance.

"Lee," he spoke softly as he came up beside his friend. "What's wrong?"

Lee studied the ground as they walked. He wanted to say something, Merlin could tell...what _was _it?

"Nothing," the boy replied after a moment. "Just..." he trailed off. Merlin waited several seconds, but Lee didn't finish his thought.

"Just...?" Merlin prompted.

Lee looked up, then, and stared directly into Merlin's eyes. "Just feeling a little bit betrayed."

_Oh, no. _

He knew.

_Lee knew!_

Merlin was left thinking of _anything _to say, but before he could let out even a noncommittal grunt, Lee picked up his pace and moved forward, falling into step beside Fred and George and joining in their conversation.

"...It would have to be a shop in Diagon Alley," George was arguing. "They don't _have _any joke shops there. It'd be perfect!"

Fred disagreed. "But I've heard that Zonko's is relocating, and we could...you know...steal their spot..."

George snorted. "You forget, Freddie, that I'm was _there _when Angelina told us that, and we both know that her sources aren't always -"

"But _Hogsmeade!" _Lee cut in, joining Fred's side. "You would have a shop in _Hogsmeade! _Students go there all the time -"

"Students go to Diagon Alley all the time."

"But _Hogsmeade..."_

"And even if Zonko's _is _relocating, we don't want to be just a replacement, do we? People would be calling us Zonko's version 2.0."

There was silence for a moment as Fred and Lee considered George's point.

"Okay, fine, say we _do _put our shop in Diagon Alley -"

"Shut up," George spoke suddenly in a low tone.

"Hey, this is a mutual relationship, I get a say in -"

"No, really, Freddie. _Shut up." _

Fred fell silent as he caught the unusually humorless note in his twin's voice, catching sight of what George had seen.

There was a dark shape sprawled on the floor in the middle of the hallway.

_Oh, no..._

Merlin started forward first, and the other three followed on his heels as he reached the dark figure.

It was definitely a person -covered in malodorous robes that smelled vaguely of wet cat. Merlin gulped as he took a trembling hand to the person's shoulder and rolled them over on their back so that he could see the person's face.

_Blood_.

There was blood.

This wasn't a petrification.

Identical looks of horror were present on all four Maverick's faces as they saw who it was.

Argus Filch, completely covered in thin scratches. One scratch crossed his jugular.

Dead.

The four were silent for several moments as billions of thoughts pinballed around their heads.

_Thin scratches...like something had attacked him. Something small. And angry..._

"I KNEW IT!" A new voice yelled out, and Merlin's expression went from shock to horror as he saw the three small first year Ravenclaws that stood in the hallway. The girl who had shouted was pointing a trembling finger at him. "You're a dark wizard! This is proof!"

Merlin stood up. The girl squeaked as she backed up against her friends. "Wait -" he began, but the Ravenclaws had turned and ran.

The Mavericks looked at each other for several moments.

"Myrddin," George spoke suddenly. "We're invisible."

The others caught on. "As far as they know," Fred told him, "Myrddin Emrys just killed Argus Filch."

* * *

Dinner was a somber affair that night. Argus Filch wasn't a likeable caretaker, but most of the students hadn't actually wanted him _dead. _

"I have written home to your parents," Dumbledore was announcing to the black-clothed student body. His voice carried loudly across the otherwise-silent hall. "This school is no longer safe. If the culprit is not found, it is likely that this school will be closed."

There were gasps at this.

_No, he can't..._

The news of who killed Argus Filch (according to the Ravenclaw first-years) must not have spread to Dumbledore yet.

_If the culprit is not found... _Dumbledore's words echoed ominously in Merlin's head.

_The culprit is me._

* * *

So it's official. Merlin's probably on his way to Azkaban, Harry is a hypocrite, and there's definitely something happening here that I'm not telling you. AND I FINALLY KILLED A CHARACTER! YAY!

I told this to FateOfChaos already, but if there's a character POV that any of you REALLY want me to write from and could easily fit somewhere into this story, just mention it in your reviews! I'm swamped with schoolwork (a lot of you guys can relate, apparently :/) but your reviews/follows/favorites/PMs are keeping me writing :D

whenithitsthefan

P.S. -Anyone catch my Death Note reference? :D


	10. Chapter 10

Whovian Hunt: spot the Doctor Who reference! Go!

* * *

There was a rumor bouncing around the school that Dumbledore had hired a new caretaker. No one had seen the caretaker yet, though, so Merlin wasn't sure if the rumor held credibility or not.

There were more important things to worry about, from Merlin's perspective. Namely...everything.

The reason behind Argus Filch's death. The Heir of Slytherin. The mysterious diary. His lost memories. The attacks on the students and the staff.

And, oh right, the fact that Merlin was probably going to be shipped off to Azkaban as soon as the Ministry/Dumbledore heard the whispers that had been bouncing around the school.

_Oh, I am so dead...I'll have to go into hiding for another hundred years..._

"Hey, look, the WED teams have been posted!"

Merlin's internal fretting was interrupted as George jumped up excitedly from the common room couch where the Mavericks had been circled around the fireplace -McGonagall had just pinned something up on the notice board. Fred and Lee followed suit, and Merlin cautiously trailed after, craning his neck over the mass of students crowded at the notice board.

_WED, _it read. Below the bolded words were four lists, titled _WED TEAMS._

"WED?" Merlin whispered, bemused. "Isn't that that club thing?"

Fred nodded, falling back behind the students. "Wizard's Extracurricular Defense. The Flitwick/Snape duo. I had no idea that there were going to be _teams..."_

After several minutes the crowd had dispersed enough for Merlin to get a glimpse of the crisp paper that was pinned:

_WIZARD'S EXTRACURRICULAR DEFENSE CLUB_

Below the headline were the four names of the teachers who would lead each team.

Snape, Flitwick, and Trelawney.

And Lockhart.

_PLEASE don't make me be in Lockhart's team..._

Merlin had a sinking feeling that he would be, but raised his eyebrows when he spotted his name under a different teacher.

SEVERUS SNAPE.

He wasn't with any of the Mavericks -Fred and George were together in Trelawney's club, and Lee was in Lockhart's.

Merlin felt a pang of sympathy for his friend. He didn't know much about Severus Snape (he'd only been at Hogwarts for a week and coincidentally had never attended a Potions class because of Petrification and conflicting schedules) but Snape couldn't ever be as bad as Lockhart. He was half-disappointed that he hadn't been put on a team with Lee. Lee had been able to avoid Merlin up until now because the Weasley twins had been there, but if Merlin just got some time to talk to Lee _alone..._

"Oh, you're in Professor Snape's?" A girl's voice spoke from a position behind him. Merlin turned -it was Hermione. "I am, too!" She continued excitedly. "You and Neville and Wood are the only other Gryffindors."

Merlin didn't know who Neville was, but he'd heard of Wood -mostly because of the twins complaining about their overly-sedulous Quidditch captain.

_Well, it should be a cozy little group..._

"...We also have Zabini Blaise and Draco Malfoy, though, so that'll be a little..." Hermione trailed off as her expression twisted into a way that clearly suggested that she did _not _like Draco Malfoy and Zabini Blaise.

"Well, us Gryffindors will stick together," Merlin replied as the corners of his mouth quirked.

Hermione's eyebrows drew together unexpectedly and her gaze shifted from Merlin's face to something behind his head. Several other people in the common room gasped.

"What _is _it?" Someone -a first year, Colin -called out. Merlin spun on his heel.

It was a bird made of pure light. Nothing like the bird that Lockhart had conjured, though it had the same general form -the bird of fire was wild, and harsh in a way that made Merlin want to shrink back. _This_ bird was...well, it made Merlin feel an odd sense of joy.

_Don't fall into that trap, _Merlin scolded himself. _It could be mind control. _

But somehow, he didn't think it was.

"It's a _phoenix!" _Someone called out -but weren't phoenixes supposed to be more...solid? "A phoenix Patronus!"

Patronus?

"It's _Dumbledore's!" _Someone else yelled excitedly.

The bird hovered for several moments in the common room, turning its head to inspect the students.

Then its gaze fell on Merlin.

_"Myrddin Emrys," _the bird's voice echoed with the headmaster's grave voice. _"See me in my office. Now."_

There was silence for several beats. No one would meet Merlin's eye.

The phoenix shattered then, after emitting a long warbling note. Silver wisps dissipated in the air, feathers of light falling to the ground and fading from existence.

"Myrddin," Lee stepped forward to stand beside Merlin. "We're coming with you."

Merlin glanced at Lee in surprise. Fred and George echoed Lee's words simultaneously, and Merlin's small frown of worry transformed.

Lee was talking to him. Lee was standing beside him. Lee might _forgive _him.

_The Mavericks are back. Mostly._

"All right," Merlin grinned at his friends. "Let's go."

And despite the ominous words of the headmaster, Merlin left alongside his companions with his entire body feeling lighter than it had in over two thousand years.

* * *

"We've been doing this a lot lately," George remarked as the Fat Lady's portrait shut behind them.

"Doing what?"

"Marauding around the school. It's only been a week, and I think that we've been out more after hours than anyone else in the school, even maybe Fi -"

He stopped short.

_Filch. _That was what he had been about to say, they all knew. There was a moment of awkward silence as the threat on the school and the death of their caretaker hovered over their minds. The death of Argus Filch had been hovering over _all _of their minds lately. The caretaker wasn't particularly well-liked, but no one had actually wished on him death. Several students -including known enemies of Filch -were wearing black armbands. Merlin was wearing one himself, even though many people looked at the armband strangely. Many people still suspected that he killed Filch, after all, and why would a killer be honoring the man that he killed?

"We've had a good reason to be marauding," Merlin remarked, changing the subject -he didn't mention that _he, _in particular, had been roaming the halls nearly every mobile night. "Pranks are good reasons, right?"

There were nods of hearty agreement.

"This is the first time we've been out because of something serious, though," Fred continued. "We should...I dunno...spice this escapade up. It's very glum."

"Like...a dungbomb?" Lee suggested, frowning. "Dungbombs spice things up."

"No, like -" Fred paused. "What's that muggle game where you say stuff? I Will Never Say Never?"

Lee snorted.

"Um...no. That is _definitely _not a word game. Never have I ever, you mean?"

"Yeah, that! How do you play?"

"You start with ten fingers and say something you haven't done, and if you've done it you put a finger down."

"Never have I ever broken a Sorting Hat."

"Never have I ever had orange hair."

"Never have I ever been an idiot."

"I'm bored," Fred announced. "Let's play another game."

"Bloody _children," _someone new remarked from down the hallway, accompanied by oddly uneven footsteps. "Don't know how to _respect -"_

_I know that voice. Oh, no -_

_"Hide!" _Merlin hissed at his friends, pushing them forcefully into a closet.

"We seem to be spending a lot of time in broom cupboards," George grinned at Merlin as Fred waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Merlin just shushed him, peering through the crack in the door...that voice, the voice was -

Lockhart.

_He just keeps showing up where he's not supposed to be, doesn't he?_

It was apparent now why Lockhart had had an odd gait. His legs were wobbling like they were made of jelly.

"Jelly-Legs Jinx," Lee whispered as Lockhart lurched by. Lockhart, completely oblivious to the four Gryffindor students concealed only a few feet away, continued muttering to himself.

"Don't know who they're dealing with..." He staggered forward another step, clutching his right leg (which was wobbling much more violently than the left). "Barbarian snakes...foolish...hold _still_, you stupid excuse for a leg!"

_Snap!_

...

..

.

Time froze.

And something in Merlin's mind broke.

_"What -" the person started in confusion as their wand bucked backwards once. "Hold _still_, __you stupid excuse for a wand -"_

_And through the shield, Merlin saw the creature's eyes._

_It was a huge creature, unnaturally gigantic like something that could come from a muggle storybook...basilisk._

_The figure crept closer. The person was standing over him, leaning in his vision, and he caught a glimpse of light, orangeish hair-_

_YOU!_

_-I should have KNOWN -_

_Gilderoy Lockhart, leaning forward to touch his wand to the tip of the struggling warlock's forehead._

_"...Obliviate..."_

"...Myrddin!"

Was that a memory?

"Myrddin! Say something!"

No...that didn't feel like a memory. Didn't sound like one, either, and memories didn't shake your shoulders.

"Don't be dead. PLEASE don't be dead."

"Gaaaaarahhhahg."

What was that _awful _groaning noise?

_Oh. I never knew I was able to produce such a sound._

A light-haired face swam into focus...hovering over him...dressed in red.

_I must be on a hunting trip. Why did I black out_ this_ time?_

"Prat," Merlin muttered to the face above him. "Arthur, you look funny..."

There was more murmuring.

Hang on.

No.

That wasn't Arthur -Arthur wasn't ginger.

Wait -

_HOGWARTS_!

_Get with the times, Merlin. Arthur Pendragon is dead, and that is a Weasley twin._

"Come on...the Hospital Wing's this way -"

"No!" Merlin jolted from his stupor, somehow managing to regain his footing as he leant, panting heavily, against the wall. Already his energy was coming back to him in a wave, and he straightened, pushing away the nostalgia that accompanied the memories of Camelot.

"I feel fine," he announced. Lockhart had gone, and his friends had been supporting him. "No Hospital Wing. I have to go to Dumbledore."

_I have to warn him,_ he tacked on mentally. _Not to mention that he'll probably be more suspicious of me if I don't go..._

"Myrddin, you just had some sort of seizure," Lee argued -_good, at least he's talking to me now_. "You need -"

"I'm fine," Merlin repeated, and he meant it. "I'm going to Dumbledore's office."

"_I'm _going?" Fred repeated, scoffing. _"We're_ going! We have to make Dumbledore see sense -we're the only witnesses!"

"Lee can come," Merlin shrugged. "I only need one witness. And he can help me if I have another...episode."

His logic was extremely flawed, Merlin knew. Fred and George knew, too.

"_Myrddin_," George began in the most not-Georgelike voice Merlin had ever heard emerge from his mouth (slowly, like speaking to a petulant child -the irony!), "the more _witnesses_ you have, the more credibility you have. And if you pass out or grow tentacles or something, one of us will have to stay with you while the other gets help!"

"Lee can send a Patronus for help..."

"Lee doesn't know how to make a Patronus."

Lee glanced curiously at Merlin from the corner of his eye. "Myrddin's right," Lee sided, to Merlin's surprise. "Go. Please."

The twins knew that something was up. They also knew that there was a fourth factor into the situation, so they reluctantly agreed after several long moments and left, glancing worriedly over their shoulder at Merlin and Lee as they did so.

"So, Lee," Merlin turned to his friend, setting his jaw resolvedly. "We need to talk."

Lee nodded slowly as his gaze pinballed from Merlin's eyes to the ground.

"Yeah," he spoke softly. "I think we do."

They began to walk to Dumbledore's office. Lee's jaw muscles were tense and his body was rigid upright as he glanced sidelong at Merlin.

_He's angry. And suspicious. And he has every right to be._

"What is your name?" Lee broke the silence abruptly as Merlin fidgeted with his Gryffindor tie.

"Not Myrddin," Merlin replied weakly. "My name changes, depending on who you ask."

"What do you call yourself?"

_Oh, hell...there's no way around this._

But it was _difficult, _telling his name to another living human being. He hadn't done that in a while. _Had it been this difficult to tell the Hogwarts Founders?_

"My name..." he took a breath. "Merlin."

Lee nodded, looking almost relieved. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For telling the truth."

_So I've been right. He _did _know._

Merlin's eyes dropped to the ground. "How did you find out?"

Lee just shrugged. "The Marauder's Map."

_But I put a spell on -! _

_That map must have stronger New magic than I'd thought if it was able to cancel out my Old Religion spell._

Merlin felt slightly offended. _Have I just been defeated by a bloody _map?

_Yes. Yes, I have._

"Merlin." Lee's voice was low. "I'm going to ask you questions."

"Okay."

"Please, _please _tell the truth. I can't force you. But...I trusted you." _Past tense, trust_ed. "I want to trust you again, and if you lie..."

Merlin nodded hastily. "I'll answer...everything that I can. I promise."

Lee accepted this.

"Who are you?"

His first question took Merlin by surprise.

"I already told -" he began, furrowing his eyebrows, but Lee interrupted.

"No, not your _name," _his friend dismissed. "Who _are _you. _What _are you, because you are _not _a fifteen-year-old wizard. There's..." he paused, searching. "There's _power _around you. I don't know how to explain it. You _act _like a ten-year-old sometimes -" _Oh, do I? I'm flattered! _"-And then when no one's looking...you're older. Sadder. Like a PTSD Dumbledore. I didn't get mad at you because you were lying about your name, I got mad because I have this feeling...like you've been lying to us from the moment we met you."

_He doesn't know I'm THE Merlin, _Merlin realized. _He just thinks that I lied about my name._

The guilt of lying to his friends had been tearing Merlin apart since he first sat down at the Gryffindor table next to his friends and introduced himself as _Myrddin._

He couldn't handle lying anymore.

"I'm Merlin."

_Well. _

_I said it._

Lee frowned. "Wh-"

_And if he wants the full truth..._

"No, literally. I'm Merlin. I'm a warlock. I'm from Camelot in the ninth century. I'm 1142 years old and I'm the man who is trying to save Hogwarts and all two hundred innocent people in it." _You got a problem with that?  
_

Lee stopped walking.

"You mean -"

His eyes widened by an inch as what Merlin had been trying to convey hit him.

"Oh, bloody hell..."

Lee's jaw had dropped and he was staring.

Just staring.

Blink.

Breathe.

Beat.

_Okay, maybe that was a little bit too much in one go. I didn't really expect him to believe me..._

"Lee?"

"..."

"Hey. Hey, Lee."

"Uhhh."

_Oh, not this..._

"I swear, if you faint -"

"I think..." Lee began weakly. Merlin waited. "I think..."

"You think...?"

Lee's mouth opened and closed twice.

"I think...I'm supposed to worship you now?"

"No -Lee -"

"You're Merlin!" The still-staring boy exclaimed.

"Yes, very good. I _am _Merlin."

"But you..._Merlin!" _

_Is he okay? _

_Exactly how well-known _am _I in the twentieth century‽ _

Lee blinked, still in a complete daze. "I'm going to...go...Gryffindor tower...collect my thoughts..."

Merlin couldn't have stopped Lee even if he had wanted to. Lee turned, wandering zombielike in an meandering path back down the hallway in the general direction of the Gryffindor wing.

"...Please don't tell the rest of the school," Merlin called out weakly after Lee, as an afterthought. His words echoed on empty halls.

_I could definitely have handled that better. _Sighing mentally, he turned and struggled to keep his thoughts from straying to the negative as he walked, but it really was inevitable.

_Lee doesn't hate me, I don't think...but is that just the shock of who I really am?  
_

Once he got over the initial impact, Lee would be back with questions. Would he be scared of Merlin, or angry? He could always just see into the future...except that always seemed to have consequences, someway. He would not abuse his power as the last warlock of the Old Religion._  
_

He was in a bit of a daze from The Conversation, too, and he didn't notice that he had arrived at Dumbledore's office until he ran into a ashen figure who was leaving.

"Oof!" Merlin reeled back, and the figure did, too, looking up in surprise as Merlin lost his balance and fell clumsily to the floor.

"I'm sorry!" Merlin said at once, but the man -because it was, he saw now, a man -had beaten him to the apology. The man held out a hand to Merlin and the warlock gratefully accepted it, ignoring the throbbing in his back from the collision with the hard floor.

"Are you all right?" The man asked Merlin, and he was surprised to see that there was genuine concern on the guy's face. Merlin nodded, surreptitiously taking in the stranger's appearance. He was shabbily dressed and his bag-eyed face held traces of old scars, yet he looked surprisingly young. "I'm sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going..."

"Neither was I," Merlin responded with a friendly grin. "It's my fault as much as yours. What were you doing in the Headmaster's office? If you, uh, don't mind me asking?" He added quickly_. __Manners, _Gaius's voice commanded sternly from the edge of his mind, and he pushed the memories down.

The man shrugged. "Albus -" _First name basis, interesting - _"asked me if I'd accept a position at the school. Caretaker."

Several things connected at once. "Oh, _you're _the new caretaker! You seem much nicer than the last one..." _Rude. _Merlin cleared his throat. "I'm Myrddin," he introduced, holding out his hand. The man shook it.

"Remus Lupin," he returned with a smile. "You wouldn't happen to be Myrddin _Emrys_?"

_Oh, bloody hell._

"Yeah. You've heard about me."

Remus Lupin shrugged. "Just a mention."

"Nothing...bad?"_  
_

He looked surprised. "No, nothing bad, why?"

Merlin shrugged. "Just...rumors. Not important, never mind."

Lupin studied him for several more moments, and then seemed to shrug to himself. "If you ever need someone to talk to, anyways, my office is...well...I'm assuming it was where Filch's office was."

"You know your way there?"

Lupin nodded, grinning a bit in an uncharacteristically mischievous manner that half-reminded Merlin of his friends, the Mavericks. "I know my way around this school, believe me. I'll see you around, Myrddin Emrys."

And the caretaker was gone. Merlin took a breath to steel his nerves, and turned to the Headmaster's office.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore's headache intensified when Myrddin Emrys flung open the door to his office with a furious expression on his face.

"You," Myrddin began, "need to get your _priorities_ straight, old man."

_Okay, Albus. Recover, compose yourself, and then act mysterious. _"Ah, Mister Emrys. I see you got my message." Then he remembered that he was supposed to be angry, and Albus's eyebrows drew together as he rearranged his features into a more enraged expression. "You have some explaining to do."

Myrddin, surprisingly, didn't seem even remotely phased. With just a flash of his eyes, he conjured a chair from thin air and sat in it. Albus blinked.

"You are an idiot," Myrddin told Albus blandly. "Honestly, you're more of an idiot than Gwaine. _Why would you summon a possible dark wizard to your office when you don't know how powerful he is? _If I were _actually _evil, I would turn you into a pile of ash!"

Albus didn't know who Gwaine was.

"You seem to forget, Mister Emrys, that I am the most powerful wiz-"

But Myrddin cut across him with a snort. "And conceited," he added. "You're almost more conceited than Arthur." Albus didn't know who Arthur was, either. "Just because you defeated Glindybald -"

"Grindelwald."

"Shush, I'm not done. You hire fraudulent dark wizards to teach _children _how to defend themselves -that was a clue, by the way, Lockhart is evil -you haven't even been doing a full investigation into this whole Heir thing. Why haven't you closed the school yet? Honestly! People are dying and you're lounging in your office, sitting on your wand. And you don't tell Harry _anything_! If he's going to be fighting the baddest bully in the Wizarding World, you should at least _tell him _what he's up against. Did you know that you have a giant snake living under your school? Get some pest control. And -"

Myrddin's rant was (thankfully) cut short as the door banged open and a flustered Potions professor sprinted in, gasping for breath as if he had run up all the way from the dungeons.

"Albus," Severus Snape wheezed as he clutched at his ribs. "I finished...the blood test. I know what's in the Chamber. It's -"

"A basilisk," Myrddin finished impatiently, and Snape stopped short, realizing that there was a third person in the room. "Yes. Though..." Myrddin frowned, temporarily absorbed in his own mind. "You bring up a good point, Professor. The basilisk was injured...very badly, too. There should have been a blood trail."

Severus was glaring at Myrddin with an intense loathing that only Severus Snape would have ever been able to muster during a first encounter. "Yes," Severus bit out. "There was a lot of blood. But someone -I'm assuming _you, _because you are the Heir of Slytherin -cleaned it up."

The boy shook his head, apparently oblivious to Severus's glare. "I'm not the Heir of Slytherin," he told him forcefully. "I don't even speak Parseltongue. I did _not _kill Argus Filch. Someone has been working behind the scenes -_not _Lockhart, someone smarter than _him_, his head is full of straw. They've managed to frame me, which I'm just a little bit irked about. Who knows what else they've managed to accomplish while you and your staff have been doing _zilch_."

_Now _Albus felt offended. Myrddin was just speculating about all of this, it wasn't proof. He couldn't accuse Albus of doing nothing! He was _running the school, _for Merlin's sake. That was a difficult job!

"You don't speak Parseltongue?" Severus frowned -_out of that entire tirade, he manages to pinpoint _that! "An entire classroom heard you! How can you claim to not -"

"It was a translator spell," Myrddin waved the question away. "Never mind it. Back to my earlier question, how did all of that blood get cleaned up so quickly?"

"Magic, obviously," Severus scoffed, but Myrddin was shaking his head.

"There were no traces of direct magic in that hallway -I checked afterwards. No cleaning spells had been performed within the last sixty hours."

"There _is _something called a caretaker..."

"Oh, for the love of..." Myrddin shook his head in amazement. "Is it a genetic thing, that all wizards are completely clueless? Don't answer that. Filch wouldn't have had _time _to clean the blood up, have you _seen _how slow he is? Erm...was." There was a short, awkward silence. "But there's something that I'm _missing, _there's something _huge..._what IS it‽"

The adults looked at each other in complete confusion as Myrddin aggravatedly banged a hand to his head. Dumbledore had never felt this lost in his entire life.

After several drawn-out moments of Myrddin muttering angrily to himself, Severus spoke hesitantly. "So...you're _not _the Heir of Slytherin?"

Myrddin threw his hands up in frustrated exasperation. "That's it," he announced irritatedly, pushing back his chair with a nerve-grating screech and stomping to the door. "If nobody _else _is going to do anything productive, I'm going to do some _proper _investigating."

He moved to leave the room, and then turned back and addressed Snape.

"Oh, and I'm also joining the Slytherin house. Don't worry -it's only temporary."

Dumbledore blinked as the door shuddered shut with a bang.

* * *

I've decided that I'm going to TRY to post on Fridays. If not Fridays, Saturdays. If not Saturdays, you can hex me into next week.

I've gotten some good POV suggestions which happen to fit perfectly into my story (thanks, WaitingForLife2Begin and Female whovian) a lot of FANTASTIC suggestions and a couple of scarily accurate predictions. I can't say too much or I blow my plot but you guys are very perceptive and I am impressed. I've dished out a ton of clues that no one's picked up on yet, though.

Lastly: is this fanfiction too rushed? I've been rereading some of my earlier chapters and I feel like a lot happens compared to other fanfictions and is hard to keep up with. Maybe that's just me, though.

whenithitsthefan


	11. Chapter 11

Whoa! Reviews! Aaah! The response to the last chapter made me so happy, every single review that I got made me grin or laugh. I kept track. 36+ grins got me through the week. And I'm keeping the faster pace, don't worry :) Sorry that this chapter is annoyingly slow, though. I had too many ties that I hadn't wrapped up yet, and wasn't creative enough to get around them. It's a little longer than any of my other chapters have been, so hopefully that makes up for my lack of fabulousness.

* * *

It was five in the morning when Lee staggered back into the dorm. He was beyond exhausted -_this _was not exhaustion. The world had gone fuzzy and his mind had slowed down to 12/8 time. This was some sort of otherworldly shock.

Lee didn't know _what _he was feeling. His emotions had gone half-numb -how was a person _supposed_ to react when one of their best friends turned out to be _Merlin? _

He wasn't angry -he could narrow his emotion list down by that much, at least. He wasn't confused -he would be, once the numbness had worn off. There were so many questions that he _could_ be asking now, but for the time being, his mind was still thinking something along the lines of '...o.o...' and he just couldn't be bothered with processing that kind of information. _  
_

"Lee?"

Lee blinked and two redheaded faces swam into focus -evidently, Fred and George had stayed up, waiting for them to come back.

"Where's Myrddin?"

_Myrddin. That's a lie. _

"He..." Lee stumbled and his legs barely managed to guide him to his bed before he sat down. "He's in Dumbledore's office." Lee's voice cracked as he swallowed the truth. "He's fine."

There was a stunned silence.

"You let him _go?" _Fred replied incredulously. "Dumbledore thinks he's a murderer and you let him go by _himself__?" _

A wave of guilt washed over him as the reason behind Fred's disbelief hit him. "Yes," he replied hoarsely. "I did. Myrddin went to Dumbledore's interrogation alone."

George's eyes darkened as he abruptly stood up from where he and Fred had been sitting on their four-poster.

"You...but he's your _friend!" _George hissed and Lee shrunk back against his bed. "What kind of friend _are _you, that you would just abandon him like that‽"

Contrary to (very) popular belief, George and Fred weren't identical in every respect. Fred was the (only slightly) more irrational one. George was the one who, ever so occasionally, got angry to the verge of apopletic. This was a side to George Weasley that not many people saw.

There was a silence following George's words. Lee didn't look up, but he could feel the twin's glares on him. He didn't say anything. His emotions had been pushed to their brink and he was struggling not to shout back, or curl into a ball, or sob.

_I'm a horrible person, _Lee realized then. _I abandoned Merlin._

Some of the shock had begun to rub from his mind. Some part of him argued that Merlin was a millenium-old warlock and could handle himself...but a smaller, more self-condemning bit seemed to agree with George's anger. _Sure, he can handle himself, but against the entire Ministry? Against Dumbledore? Against Azkaban?_

"Is he still there?" Fred shattered the silence, moving towards the door with a now-resolute expression. "Is Myrddin still in Dumbledore's office?"

"I don't know," Lee replied, slightly bewildered at the determined tone in his friend's questions. "He _has _to be there. If he's not, then..."_  
_

_Then he's probably been carted off to Azkaban._

_I just sent the most powerful wizard alive to Azkaban. _

_I just sent my _best friend _to Azkaban._

_Bloody hell..._

Fred sprinted from the room.

George sprinted from the room.

And Lee, feeling the weight of eleven hundred and forty-two years pressing on his heels, followed suit.

* * *

Dumbledore blinked as the door shuddered shut with a bang.

Severus's jaw was hanging by a thread, completely dumbfounded. "Did he just -"

"I'm afraid he did," Dumbledore announced, eyes twinkling. "Severus, it looks like you have a new house member." _  
_

The jaw went up and down, and no sound came forth except for a small grunt -it was quite a comical expression, really. Dumbledore internally ROFLed.

_"Relax, _Severus," Dumbledore spoke after he successfully fought back the grin that had declared war on his face. "Myrddin Emrys wouldn't actually go _through _with that threat, it's ridiculous. He's just saying that to scramble your thoughts."

Severus's jaw closed as the logic behind Dumbledore's words clicked. "You're right," he replied with barely concealed relief. "No Gryffindor could be _that _insane."

"Exactly." Dumbledore was glad that Severus had seen his point. "We do have another problem, however." _  
_

Severus nodded. "I know which point you're talking about," he said in disgust. "Namely, the ba -"

"Myrddin ate my last lemon drop."

"...Forget what I said."

"This is serious, Severus." Dumbledore leaned forward, resting his chin on the tips of his fingers and peering at Severus over his half-moon glasses. "I buy my lemon drops from a very specific Muggle company, and they've gone out of business."

The gargoyle-alert chimed on Albus's desk, but he ignored it.

Severus glanced at the alert worriedly. "Albus..."

"I've been trying to find a replacement company, but none of other lemon drops of Britain are quite as good. I have found myself in a bit of a predicament."

"I can see that."

"No, Severus, you don't. You are content to brew potions all night with no nourishment besides the set meals. I am in the later half of my life, and I must savor the experience while I can. Faulty lemon drops won't cut it."

"Have you considered apple drops?"

Albus frowned. "I haven't," he admitted. "I wasn't aware that they exist."

Somebody cleared their throat. Albus turned in surprise to the source of the noise and found three students standing at the door and watching the conversation with a generally bemused air.

"Ah, Fred, George, Lee!" Albus exclaimed delightedly, briefly wondering exactly how long they had been standing there. Ah, well, they thought that he was mad anyways. "Just the people to solve my problem! You enjoy engineering new sweets, yes?"

"Actually, Professor," Fred began, sounding unusually grim for a Weasley twin, "we were wondering where Myrddin is."

_Myrddin. _Albus had completely forgotten about Myrddin. He'd been _distracted_.

"Myrddin?" Severus sneered at them, automatically re-adopting his greasy vulture persona. "He's in the Gryffindor tower, where _else _would he be?"

He received three identical frowns of confusion.

"He's not in the Gryffindor tower," George replied -if possible, his expression was darker than Fred's. "We thought he was _here." _

"Myrddin Emrys left from this office about ten minutes ago," Dumbledore refuted, raising an eyebrow. "If he's not in the Gryffindor tower, then I have no idea where he could possibly be."

* * *

Two hours later on a couch in the Slytherin common area, Merlin woke up to a dozen wands pointed up his face.

The wands were connected to hands, and the hands to arms and then to shoulders and necks and on the necks sat a dozen _very _angry Slytherin scowls.

No, more than a dozen -_who am I kidding? _The entire Slytherin house was glaring at him, many with spells seemingly on their lips.

_How in the name of Camelot did I get _here? Merlin tried to recall the last couple of hours. _I was talking with Lee, _he remembered. _Then I was talking with the new caretaker. Then I was talking -yelling -at Dumbledore. __Then I left. _

_Then I went to the dungeons and fell asleep on a couch. _

_In the middle of the snake pit. _

_Oops._

Merlin realized that he wasn't quite in his right mind last night, as had been proven by his delirious rant to Dumbledore. It _had _been past four o'clock in the morning, after all. Lack of sleep could really mess a warlock up.

_"Who are you?" _One oily teenager -the Slytherin Quidditch captain, Flint -growled at him. Merlin had never seen Flint up close before. Flint was _terrifying -_his arms were beefy and his uncensored teeth formed his face into a perfected glower. _  
_

Merlin almost laughed at him, but checked himself as he sat up, brushing two hours of sleep from his eyes. "I'm your new snakemate," he replied cheerfully. "Hello!"

Another girl with an annoyingly shrill voice stepped forward, studying him. "You're that _Gryffindor," _she spat after a moment of intense scrutiny. "The evil one who broke the Hat."

Merlin raised an eyebrow at the name. _Is that what they're calling me now? _"Yep," he replied. "That's me, the evil Gryffindor. Except I was too evil for Gryffindor, so they kicked me out. I'm a Slytherin through and through. Ambitious all the way." Not a single wand lowered from his face. "Well, I'm not wearing _red, _am I?"

A shorter, heavier boy squinted at his tie (which he had magically charmed earlier to change its color) for several long moments. "Huh," he grunted. "I don't remember you. You sure you a Slytherin?"

_The intellect is not strong in this one, _Merlin predicted wisely as several of the boy's housemates glared at him. "Don't be stupid, Crabbe," his friend elbowed him. "He's a _Gryffindor._ He was with them gingers, yeah?"

_Mind you, the intellect is not strong in many of these kids._

"I think we should throw 'im out," Crabbe responded. "He can go back to the Mudbloods and blood traitors!"

There was an answering murmur of agreement, but one blonde boy pushed his way through the crowd. He was shorter -probably one of the lower years -but he obviously held some significant degree of respect in the house from the way that the other Slytherins moved out of his way.

_Oh, bollocks, it's Draco Bloody Malfoy. _Merlin couldn't help the corners of his mouth twitching up for a half-moment at the memories that accompanied that face, but Malfoy thankfully wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to Merlin's mouth.

Malfoy didn't have his wand out as many of his housemates did, and his expression was calculatingly cool. "No," Malfoy disagreed with his friend. "Let him stay. If he says he's a Slytherin, who are we do disagree? He's obviously not a proper _Gryffindor, _he's actually got _brains."_

There was laugher. Merlin wasn't sure if he should feel offended or flattered.

"Vote, then!" Another girl called. "I think we should kick him out, all in favor?"

An alarming number of hands rose.

"All in favor of letting him stay!"

Three people raised a hand. _Three people. _

_I'm dead. I am absolutely dead._

...The gazes and the glares and the glowers turned back to Merlin.

"Uh...gottagotobreakfast, bye!" Merlin gave a small wave and sprinted from the room. "Thanks for your hospitality!"

The Slytherin entrance slid shut behind him.

* * *

"There! There he is!"

The entire Gryffindor table (at least, the ones who had already arrived at breakfast) breathed a collective sigh of relief as the now-familiar black-haired boy sprinted into the Great Hall for breakfast, seemingly out of breath. The remaining Mavericks had been raising cold chaos in the Gryffindor house that morning trying to find their friend, who had mysteriously disappeared after leaving Dumbledore's office.

Emphasis on _cold -_half of the house had had ice water dumped on them to wake them up at four in the morning (the male half, as the Mavericks were unable to get into the girl's dorms).

He hadn't even pinpointed his destination before Merlin found both of his arms grabbed by two very irate twins and dragged back out of the Great Hall. Lee followed timidly, looking a lot less shocked and a lot more guilty than Merlin would have expected him to be.

_Oh, gods, Lee told them, _Merlin mentally groaned (though, strangely enough, he felt a tiny flutter of relief as well that he would no longer have to hide). _They're furious. They're going to interrogate me about Camelot and I'm not prepared for this kind of intense mental scrutiny -_

"Where. Have. You. _Been?" _George and Fred chorused as George crossed his arms and Fred tapped his foot.

"You've been missing -"

"For _three hours -" __  
_

"We've been looking -"

_"Bloody everywhere -"_

"Broom cupboards -"

"Quidditch pitch -"

"Library -"

"Kitchens -"

"I was in the Slytherin common room."

"Astronomy t- hang on, _what?"_

"I was sleeping on a couch."

Lee, Fred, and George all gaped at him. _"Why?" _Lee eventually asked. "We thought the Ministry'd secretly arrested you!"

Merlin shrugged nonchalantly. "I was too tired last night to find the fourth-year dorm room," he replied, knowing what Lee had _actually _meant and purposely avoiding the answer. "And the couches in the common area just looked _really _comfy. I thought the Slytherins wouldn't mind, but they did."

"No..." George said impatiently. "Why were you in the Slytherin common room? For three _hours? _What the hell were you doing in there?" _  
_

"Sleeping."

"..."

"..."

"...Okay, backtracking a bit," Fred twisted a finger in a counterclockwise motion. "Tell us _everything _that you've been doing since four o'clock. Especially Dumbledore's office -because when _we _got there, you were gone and Gandalf was on a lemon drop rant."

"Who's -"

"Never mind that, tell us."

So Merlin recounted his story -leaving out his conversation with Lee. The twins laughed when Merlin told of the scene in Dumbledore's office so they mustn't have been _too _mad with him.

"And when I left, it took me _ages _to find the common room -" Merlin was exaggerating this a bit. In reality, he'd just traced the energy signatures to a blank wall and then walked through it using the same spell that he'd used to get into Dumbledore's office the day that the message was written on the wall. "-And when I got there, I guessed the password and it let me in. Then I fell asleep on a couch and woke up to a bunch of angry buff people, so I ran away."

They all stared at him for several moments.

Then an identical grin began to form on the twins' faces.

_Oh, no. I know that look..._

"Do you know what this means?" George started, all traces of anger completely gone from his voice. Merlin had an idea, but he shook his head no anyways.

"This means that we finally have access to the Slytherin common rooms," Fred continued as his eyes lit up with mad excitement. "The Slytherins won't know what hit them!" Their grins faltered as they saw Merlin's hesitant look. "What is it? Don't tell us you're chickening out -"

"I'm undercover," Merlin shrugged. "If we prank them, then they won't trust me."

"And they trust you _now?" _Lee asked, incredulous.

"Well, not exactly..."

"How long are you going to pose as a Slytherin, anyways?"

Merlin shrugged. "Until I can figure out if anyone in Slytherin knows anything about the Heir." He frowned. "Mind you, that might take a while...they're not the most loose-lipped group..."

"Well, once you figure that out, can we prank them?" The level of eager anticipation on their expressions was vaguely frightening.

"Yep." Merlin grinned. "Knock yourselves out."

With that sorted, the twins left to eat breakfast. Lee stayed behind, and the two friends shared an uncomfortable silence until Merlin broke it.

"I can't promise to answer all of your questions," Merlin warned him, and Lee shrugged.

"Good," his friend replied. "I'm not going to ask any."

_What? _

"Why?"

Lee just shrugged. "The more you tell me, the more I'm going to have to keep secret from them."

Merlin accepted this -he could understand all too well the burden that a heavy secret would have. "You _are_ going to keep it a secret, though? You're not going to tell them?"

Lee just shrugged. "If I said that I was, would you stop me?"

"I could."

"Would you?"

"No."

Lee shook his head. "I'm not going to tell them. I'm going to let _you _do it."

This conversation was not going at all how Merlin had expected. He remained silent while Lee studied him.

"You want to tell them," Lee deduced correctly after a moment. "I know you do."

_Am I really that easy to read? _

"I can't..."

"Why not?"

"I..."

Merlin paused.

_Why not? _

Why couldn't he tell Fred and George?

"I don't know," Merlin confessed after searching his mind and coming up without an answer. "There isn't a _reason. _I just _can't." _

There _were _reasons, though, there were plenty, but they were all insubstantial excuses. There were more reasons to tell Fred and George than to _not _tell them.

"When I'm in Gryffindor," Merlin told Lee. "Once I'm back in Gryffindor, I will. I'll tell them."

_That _was a promise that he fully intended to keep.

* * *

Fred and George were extremely suspicious, Lee could tell.

They kept darting curious glances at Lee as he sat down next to them at the Gryffindor breakfast table. Merlin received several glances as well, but he had the benefit of distance: unlike Lee, Merlin wasn't sitting at the Gryffindor table.

Every person, student and teacher alike, noticed. Merlin had caused quite a ripple through the school in the last week, and many were extremely suspicious of him. The Gryffindors, once Merlin had left their table, viewed Merlin as a traitor to their house. The Ravenclaws were convinced that Merlin was Filch's killer -for the past day, they had been telling everyone who would listen what had _really _happened with Filch. The Mavericks were countering these rumors the best that they could with their version of the truth, and the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors were uncertain of which version of the story to believe.

Lee hadn't yet heard the Slytherin side of the story.

Merlin was sitting perfectly still at the Slytherin table -the only thing that moved was his arm and his jaw, to spoon food into his mouth and chew it. He looked like some sort of Muggle robot. Lee couldn't tell if the lack of movement was because he was thinking or because Merlin was on his guard.

The Slytherins had _definitely _not accepted him yet. They sat a good distance away from Merlin, chewing their food slowly while glaring at him from the corners of their eyes. Merlin himself seemed oblivious to their intense dislike.

And, as Lee watched, Hermione Granger stood up from the Gryffindor table, walked a few feet, and sat down next to Merlin.

_Um. _

Now the glares magnified tenfold.

* * *

"Myrddin Emrys," Hermione Granger greeted, sitting next to him at the Slytherin table. If Myrddin was at all surprised to see her, he didn't show it -in fact, he flashed a grin.

"Hello," the boy said. "I haven't talked to you in a while."

"You haven't talked to me, _period_," Hermione reminded him, raising an eyebrow. He shrugged.

"Well, not one-on-one. I've never properly introduced myself, anyhow. Hello, I'm your friendly Slytherin housemate."

He held out a hand and she shook it, and then abruptly blurted out the question that had been weighing on her mind for what seemed like days.

"Are you me?"

"What?"

"Me. The note."

She detected something -recognition -flicker across his expression. "Don't have a clue what you're talking about," he replied offhandedly, but there was a defensive note to his voice.

"You're a horrible liar."

He seemed vaguely amused. "I've been told that," he replied. They stared at each other for a moment. Myrddin raised an eyebrow while Hermione gazed coolly back.

Five seconds passed. Neither moved.

"All right, _fine," _Myrddin lost the visual battle, throwing his hands up exasperatedly and dropping all enigmatic pretenses. "I put the note there. Though I noticed that you haven't followed my instructions, yet."

Hermione was cheering for herself mentally. "Why would I talk to Ginny Weasley? What role could _she _possibly play in all of this?"

Myrddin shrugged. "Ask her and find out. You're the curious sort, aren't you?"

Hermione ignored this. "Myrddin, what does Ginny Weasley know?"

"It's not my place to say," he told her innocently with a cursory glance behind her at the Gryffindor table. "Even I don't know all of her story. I've been meaning to talk to her again -never got around to it."

_Again, _Hermione noted, and stored the sticky in the back of her mind. _He's talked to her before. He knows something that I don't. _

Myrddin Emrys knowing something that she didn't irked her more than the fact that he wasn't telling her what he knew.

"The note," she circled the conversation back around. "How did you put it there? You wouldn't have had the Gryffindor password. How did you get in to Harry's dorm?"

Myrddin faltered a bit, and a frown creased his forehead and then vanished. "I flew," he replied simply. "I flew a broomstick up to their window, and broke in."

Hermione found that she couldn't disprove this -she didn't know if there were any wards on the boy's windows. She would have to ask Harry and Ron.

Though a person like Myrddin Emrys could easily have gotten past any flimsy window wards.

"So you're smart," she remarked softly, almost to herself. "I didn't know that." She judged him appraisingly.

"Yes, I'm smart," Myrddin told her, looking slightly ruffled. "I'm also clever. Two very different things."

"And trustworthy."

He looked surprised. "Why, yes," he said. "That, too. You trust me?"

Hermione found herself inexplicably nodding.

Now it was Myrddin's turn to judge her appraisingly. "Well, then, you're smart, too, which I already knew. Are you smart enough to know what has been attacking the students?"

"Yes. Are you?"

"Yes. It's a basilisk."

"Really? I hadn't narrowed it down that far. It could be a strong Petrification spell -though mind you, that wouldn't account for the roosters -"

"It's a basilisk," he repeated with complete certainty. "Believe me. I know. I can tell you other things, Hermione Granger. We can solve this together, if you like, seeing as we're one of the few people actually doing something _productive _in this school."

And that was when she abruptly stood up. "Thank you," she told him politely, neither accepting nor rejecting his request. "I'm leaving now."

With their conversation cut short, Hermione left the Slytherin table, fully aware of the eyes of Myrddin Emrys and the glares of the Slytherins on her back.

* * *

"You're still here," Draco Malfoy remarked to Merlin as the Slytherins made their way down from breakfast.

"You're still being weirdly friendly," Merlin countered, not really paying attention.

Draco accepted this. "I'm curious."

"You want to make me an asset, you mean," snorted Merlin. He hadn't decided quite yet if he liked Draco Malfoy -for one, he had heard from his fellow Gryffindors the things that Malfoy had done -and the Malfoy family, and though Merlin wasn't one to judge by family, Draco and Lucius _did _share a strange similarity. "I'm not going to leak Gryffindor secrets to you, Malfoy. I don't _know _any Gryffindor secrets."

Malfoy shook his head hastily. "I don't care about the _Gryffindors," _he replied, and for the first time Merlin heard a sliver of contempt creep into the edge of his voice. "I care about the Heir of Slytherin. I know that you know something, and I want to know what _you _know."

_I want to know what you know? _"But...you don't _know_ who the Heir of Slytherin is?" Merlin exclaimed incredulously. "I thought -"

"Of _course _I don't know, Emrys!" Malfoy stopped in his tracks, glaring. "What, you expect that because we're Slytherins, we know about every evil thing that happens in this castle? That's houseist!"

"You're being just as bad, thinking that _I know things," _Merlin defended, though inside he was scolding himself for jumping to conclusions.

"_Do_ you know things?"

"Yeah..."

The other Slytherins had disappeared around the corner by now, long gone on their way back to their dorm. Malfoy and Merlin stood alone in the hallway.

Malfoy was eyeing Merlin calculatingly. "I'll make a deal with you," he declared after several moments. "I'll tell you what I know if you tell me..._things." _

Things.

Not everything. Just things. _I can live with 'things.'_

"Deal," Merlin agreed. "What do you know?"

"Nothing."

...

_THAT TWO-FACED -_

Malfoy continued. "Nobody in my house is guilty of anything, I can tell you for sure."

Merlin _was _glaring, now. "You are _such _a Slytherin."

"I know," Malfoy shrugged. "But we had a deal -_technically, _I still told you what I know. It's your turn."

Still glaring, Merlin grudgingly began. "Lockhart's involved in this, somehow, and there was water -"_  
_

"Well, obviously."

Merlin started, surprised. "What do you mean, _obviously?" _

"Lockhart's the Defense professor," Malfoy grinned a little. "You know, because of the curse -"

_Curse? What curse? _

"-They're always guilty, one way or -"

"The water," Merlin spoke suddenly, interrupting Malfoy completely.

_Oh. My. Gods._

"There was water on the floor that night," Merlin began, rapidly gaining pace as he became more sure of himself. "The basilisk...it was wounded -"

_"Basilisk?" _

Merlin ignored Malfoy's shocked expression. "I was _wondering _how someone would have managed to clean the blood trail up without magic in less than twenty minutes! Don't you _see?" _

It was apparent that Malfoy certainly did _not _see.

"When I hurt the basilisk," Merlin began, "I made it bleed. A lot. There was a blood trail, which would have led _right back to where the basilisk lived -_the _chamber! _So someone would have tried to cover the blood trail up -by _flooding the entire hallway! _I assumed that Myrtle did it..."

Thoughts in his mind were connecting, events, words -

Merlin's mind was exploding. "I'm done with Slytherin," he called over his shoulder to Malfoy as he turned. "Sorry I didn't stay long, I have everything that I need."

He left an extremely befuddled Malfoy standing in the middle of the hallway.

_I'm going to find myself a Chamber of Secrets._

* * *

I JUST HAD THE EVILEST IDEA AND YOU WILL ALL HATE ME FOR IT so I apologize in (extremely early) advance. I AM SO SORRY. I AM SO, SO SORRY.

whenithitsthefan


	12. Chapter 12

It has officially been ONE WEEK since Merlin woke up! Whoa. This chapter takes place on a Wednesday, in case anyone's confused. Some of you guys have also been wondering when there's going to be a little more Merlin BAMF going on. Believe me, he's going to be getting his fair share of that, but for now he has to hide the fact that he's actually THE Merlin. He's pretending to be a fourth-year student, remember.

AND NOW THE CHAPTER YOU MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR!

* * *

"You know, Fred," George remarked to his brother as they stared around at the desolate Gryffindor commons. "This place needs a party."

"George," his twin replied as the corner of his lip twitched, "I was thinking exactly the same thing."

* * *

The Chamber of Secrets was somewhere in the girl's bathroom, Merlin was sure. That was where the water would have come from, that was where the water had been at its deepest. It was mid-morning when he crept into Myrtle's lair, praying to the gods that she wasn't here -

"Why, _hello!" _A shrill, excited voice yelled into his ear, and Merlin jumped back a meter, nearly losing his footing. He turned to see his third-favorite person in the castle, following Lockhart and Dumbledore. "Fancy seeing _you _here! The plumbing that you fixed is still broken."

"Uh -" Merlin swallowed. "Yeah. Yeah, sorry about that. I, uh...I'm going to fix it. Eventually, I'm a bit of a procrastinator. I, uh -"

"Oh, you're just _so cute _when you're awkward," Myrtle gushed, reaching out a pearly hand towards Merlin's face as Merlin leaned away nervously. "I like boys with dark hair, have I mentioned? You're not _nearly _as famous, but you've still got _plenty _of -"

"Thanks!" Merlin yelped across her and she stopped short, blinking innocently. "I'm sure Harry Potter would appreciate you much more than I would...he's got a thing for, uh...girls..."

"I understand," Myrtle nodded reasonably. "I'm not a very modern ghost, but I _was _rather open-minded when I was alive. If you swing for the other team, that's all right with me."

Merlin didn't know what _swing for the other team _meant -probably that he was more attracted to the living than the dead -but he nodded anyways. "Uh, yes. Yes I do. Thanks. For, uh, understanding."

Myrtle winked at him one more time and disappeared down her U-bend. Merlin sighed with relief, turning to the bathroom and scanning it. _Now if I were Salazar Slytherin, where would I hide my mancave?_

His gaze fell upon the first toilet in the row.

_Well, I'd better start somewhere, _Merlin groaned mentally as he approached the toilet with a degree of familiarity –it was the same toilet that he had stolen the pipe from.

After thoroughly combing every toilet in the row (the third one down still had a highly suspicious green fuzzlump in it that he was really trying not to picture as moldy crap), Merlin concluded that the noble Salazar Slytherin _really _wasn't likely to hide the entrance to his beloved chamber down a girl's loo. He'd even tried standing in the first toilet and flushing himself in.

(It didn't work, and as a result Merlin was covered waist-down in smelly toilet water. _I don't care how much I need to get into that stupid chamber, _Merlin grumbled mentally. _I am NEVER trying to flush myself down a toilet again.)_

And then he saw it.

A snake –a tiny engraved snake on the side of one of the taps. Merlin sprinted to the basin, leaning down to examine it, and grinned as he saw that the snake was an exact replica of the Slytherin mascot down to the glinting jeweled eyes.

"Hah!" Merlin grinned, congratulating himself as he turned the hot/cold handles.

Nothing happened. Merlin frowned, turning it on and off several times in vain hope that it would decide to work.

_First a map, now a sink. I've got to stop letting inanimate objects get the better of me._

He couldn't walk through the wall –there was a layer of enchantments blocking it and he didn't have _time _to undo them all -people were _dying!_

And he couldn't bloody TALK to the snake because the translation spell worked on only sentient beings...faucets weren't _sentient..._

If only he could get around the sink somehow. Above it, or below...he could drop in from the floor above...

"AaGGh!" Merlin bellowed in frustration as his anger surged from him in waves -it was only until a blinding flash of orange light lit up the room that he realized that his anger had manifested itself in a very destructive sense.

_BOOM!_

He covered his eyes from the light, and a moment later an odd singed smell drifted across his senses.

Hesitantly, Merlin lowered his forearm from its position covering his eyes, and his jaw dropped.

The sink was gone.

Just _gone._

In its place was an enormous smoking hole a good size larger than the sink in the first place -

_Oh. _Merlin got the hazy impression that he had had something to do with the carnage.

-And several more sinks were obliterated, as well as a toilet.

One toilet.

_The _toilet.

_Moaning Myrtle's toilet was gone._

He could hear a distant shrieking that was rapidly increasing in volume -Myrtle had evidently felt the explosion and was coming to incinerate him.

"aaaa_aaaaa_AAAA_AAAAIEEEE-"_

Merlin swore, taking one last gaze around at the smoking remains of the room -_no one can argue that it's out of order, now -_and another look at the hole in the floor._  
_

He took a breath and jumped.

...

_One._

_Two._

_Three._

_..._

The rushing of wind abruptly stopped as the tunnel/pipe leveled and spit the warlock out onto a sharp surface and _owowowow _he rolled to a stop, wincing and climbing to his feet.

Bones.

He was lying amid a thousand bones. Owls, cats, rodents, even a small fox skull -they were all the same to the basilisk.

_Oh, my gods. How has Mrs. Norris survived this long? _

Merlin took a hesitant step forward, but an odd squelching sound reached his ears and he froze.

He had stepped in a pool of blood. Orange blood, thick and recent, that stuck to the bottom of his shoe and brought a twisted grimace to his features.

_So I was right. I _did _wound it. I was right about the water, too..._

Merlin was feeling quite proud of himself. _Point one for deductive reasoning._

Ahead of him stood a grimy passageway, stained in brown rotted mould. Tentatively, he stepped into the tunnel and his shoes were immediately drenched (again) in grimy sewer water.

_"Leoht."_

The tiny ball of light drifted from his hand, lighting up the dank darkness. Three more whispers and there were four sparks drifting around him, twinkling reassuringly.

_I really should be more scared, _Merlin decided, observing his unusual lack of fear. _Lack of fear is just stupidity in disguise, or something like that. Come on, Merlin. Man up and stop being so brave._

Merlin conjured a shimmering mist in front of his face -so if he managed to catch the basilisk's gaze, at least it wouldn't instantly kill him.

Though it could probably just eat him after he was petrified. _If I'm conscious when I'm petrified, like last time, and the basilisk eats me, will it hurt?_

He pushed the slightly traumatizing thought away, tensing up as something large moved ahead of him -and relaxed as he saw that the movement was just the reflection of his lights on something scaly.

Then he tensed up again. Scaly? _What's big and scaly and annoying and lives in a dark place?_

But the thing ahead wasn't Kilgharrah -it was big, but not _dragon _big. It was a basilisk.

_Is it sleeping?_

Merlin crept forward with caution. Any second, that head could whip around and the eyes would open and -

But the head didn't move. The creature lay still -it was a fifty-foot serpentine coil that easily dwarfed the warlock.

_"Guþwerig cwic."_

A muted orange spell shot from Merlin's fingertips and hovered in the air above the snake for several moments, blinking dimly, before whizzing back to its caster.

_Dead, _the spell confirmed. _Four days, eight hours._

Merlin gaped.

_I killed it, _he realized. _I shot it with fire and it crawled away to this stinkhole to die._

_Hang on._

_That doesn't add up._

The chamber was completely silent, save for a distant _drop-drip, drop-drip _somewhere else in the chamber. Merlin turned from the megacorpse with records turning in his mind.

_If I killed the basilisk, then what petrified Hermione Granger?_

* * *

Getting out of the Chamber, oddly enough, was more difficult than getting in. Merlin had no way to fly up or simply teleport to the bathroom because Myrtle would likely see him do it and tell the rest of the school. Before he could conclude that he was going to be stuck in a dismal cesspool for the rest of his long life, a lightbulb lit up somewhere in the shadowy place beyond his usual uncreative mental capacity.

_Oh, trusty toilet pipe, _Merlin thought, staring affectionately at his wand, _what would I do without you?_

With a _snap, _the wand-pipe took on the qualities of an old broomstick. The broomstick had pipe mould growing off the tail end and the wood was rusted red -Merlin had never been good at transmutation back in the pre-Hogwarts years -but it flew, and that was good enough for him. Within minutes, he was soaring up, up, _up, _and finally -

A ballistic ghost flew at him, shrieking savagely, the moment that he exited the smoking hole that was now the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.

"AAAAAAAAAAAH!" Myrtle was literally turning nearly opaque with anger, flapping her arms around Merlin's head and gesturing wildly at her toilet. "BahAZZZabilIgosHAAA!"

Merlin ducked, terrified, under her swooping form. "I'm sorry, Myrtle -"

"ARTLESS BARNACLE!"

"-didn't mean to, I sw -"

"VILLAINOUS WHEY-FACE!"

"-an accident -"

"ABOMINABLE SNOWMAN!"

"...Okay, that's not even an insult," Merlin frowned as Myrtle momentarily ran out of breath. "Though I really am sorry. I'll get you a new toilet."

"I don't _WANT _a new toilet!" Myrtle wailed, half-livid and half-traumatized. "I want _MY _U-bend! Do you _know _what you have forced upon me, Myrddin Emrys? _Do you know?" _

Merlin wisely chose to remain silent, but Myrtle continued anyways.

"My home is an L-BEND! My U-bend has been DECIMATED by your stupid -"

"Can't you just use another toilet?" Merlin interjected as steam rose from Myrtle's skin. "I mean, there's got to be more U-bends in the castle..."

He had said the wrong thing. Myrtle's skin tone immediately flushed, and now all traces of translucence had gone. Myrtle was a fully-opaque white mass. She swung at him and her fist connected, _hard, _with his jaw as he reeled back in shock. _  
_

_WHAT? But she's a GHOST! _

She seemed a little surprised at this, too, looking at her fist in confusion for several moments. His jaw was throbbing sadistically -not _quite_ broken, but any harder and it would have been. _  
_

Instead of continuing to attack him, though, Myrtle backed up, her face still contorted into a furious expression, and whizzed from the room.

_Out _of the bathroom.

_Oh, bloody hell, _Merlin groaned to himself. _I just unleashed a rabid Myrtle on the school. Hogwarts, I am so sorry._

* * *

'"What happened to your face?"' was the first sentence that Merlin heard when he set foot into his dorm. Merlin looked up at Fred, glaring.

"What, no _welcome back? _No _w__e've missed your magnificence while you have been braving the perilous land of the Slytherins?" _

The twins shrugged simultaneously. "Well, you _were _only gone for about four hours," Lee pointed out, and Merlin conceded that he had a point.

"No, but really," Fred persisted. "What did you do to your face?"

Merlin frowned. His jaw wasn't hurting, which was why he hadn't used a healing spell on it -was the damage visible?

"I accidentally blew up Moaning Myrtle's toilet," Merlin admitted, and the other three frowned in confusion. "She was so mad that she went corporeal."

"You mean to say..." George began slowly, "that you turned Moaning Myrtle into a _poltergeist?"_

"...What? Is that even possible?"

Lee nodded. "Yep -we learned about Poltergeists second year. They're ghosts right up to the point that something really, _really _pisses them off." He snorted. "Then they're, like, supercharged."

"Well, I can't say that someone blowing up _my _toilet would make me euphoric, exactly," George grinned at Merlin and Merlin grinned hesitantly back. "I'm impressed. We've blown up toilets before, but not quite on _that _level."

"I'm touched."

"Welcome back to Gryffindor, anyways," Fred beamed, clapping him at the back. "Georgie 'n me've been brainstorming things that we were going to do when you got back, and we've been thinking that we were going to throw this epic party -

Behind the twins, Lee was staring at Merlin with a demanding intensity in his gaze.

_"Do it," _he mouthed, eyes flickering to the twins. _"Tell them."_

And at once, the light feeling of being back in the Gryffindor tower disappeared as his heart plummeted to his stomach.

_I promised. I promised to tell I got back to Gryffindor...  
_

He stood up a little straighter, setting his jaw resolutely.

_I intend to keep that promise. _

But now, looking at the twins chattering animatedly away with ridiculously goofy grins spreading across their faces, he couldn't help but think..._what if they hate me for lying? Friends don't keep secrets..._

But that was why he _had _to tell them. Because friends _didn't _keep secrets, and Merlin _was _their friend.

"Fred," Merlin said slowly. "George."

The twins halted abruptly in their conversation at his serious tone.

"I have to tell you something," Merlin said. "And before I do, just know that I'm sorry that I didn't tell you before."

Why were the corners of Fred's mouth twitching as if he knew something?

Merlin took a breath. _In. Out. _"It's been something that I've been keeping secret for a while," he confessed. "Lee knows already." Another breath. "I'm -"

"-Gay," the twins finished, nodding. "We know. It's _quite _obvious, we were waiting for you to say it yourself."

"Wait, wh-what?" Merlin choked. "That wasn't what I was going to say at _all!" _

George just shrugged. "Okay. Continue."

Fred was still attempting to stifle his grin.

"Thank you." Some of the tension in Merlin's muscles had disappeared. "What I was going to say...I'm, uh, well." He laughed nervously. "You see, I'm -"

"Spit."

"I'm not who you think I am," Merlin finished, though he had originally intended to be blunt as he had been with Lee, the words _'My name is Merlin' _had stuck in his throat. "I'm...I'm not a fourteen-year-old wizard."

Lee was staring straight at him. He was on his own bed, hugging his legs and not breaking eye contact once.

The twins didn't say anything either, they just glanced at each other and then back to Merlin in confusion.

"I wasn't born in 1978," he said quickly, gaining confidence. "Actually...well...I wasn't born in this century."

Then Fred laughed, and the laugh split the thick air like a butter knife. "All right, now you're just messing with us, mate," he grinned, but Merlin was shaking his head.

"I'm not. I solemnly swear that I am not."

More frowns. "Then..." George hesitated. "If you're not born in the twentieth century, then what...are you a time traveler?"

Merlin shook his head again. "I was born in the past, in England. Only...it wasn't called England. It was called Albion."

"And you _knew _this?" George demanded, swinging around to Lee on the bed. Lee nodded slowly.

"Sort-of," he admitted. "I didn't know the full story. Just wait -there's more."

"All right, then," Fred said, rolling his shoulders back. "So you lived in Albion. When was that? 1800? 1700?"

"About eight hundred and seventy." Lee's eyes grew wide as well as Fred and George's. "CE."

"...Need to sit down," the twins muttered simultaneously, and they joined Lee on the edge of his bed while Merlin leaned on the wall and crossed his arms uncomfortably.

No one else was going to say anything, so Merlin just continued. "I was born in 850. I'm not that old, though, mentally," Merlin added in an attempt to lighten the load. "Gryffindor put me to sleep for about nine hundred years, so in my head I'm only 250. Ish."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hang on," Fred stopped him, holding up a hand. "_Gryffindor__? _As in _Godric Bloody Gryffindor?_"

"I knew a lot of Gryffindors -it was a popular surname. But yeah, I knew Godric Gryffindor. I was his friend, actually," Merlin swallowed. "And Salazar, and Helga, and Rowena. That's not all -I met Arthur Pendragon, too. We were friends. Best friends."

George shook his head. "I'll believe you about the age thing," he told Merlin. "I think I've always known that you were older than you look, actually, somewhere in the back of my mind...but Arthur Pendragon is a _legend, _Myrddin. He was real, of course, but he's a _legend. _You can't just claim to have been _best friends _with a _legend." _

"I suppose you're going to say that you met Merlin, too," Fred snorted. "Honestly, you expected us to _believe _that?"

Merlin and Lee made eye contact, Lee with an uncertain look on his face. Fred and George would obviously be more difficult to convince than Lee had been.

"I think I know how to convince you," Merlin began slowly. "Do we have any important classes soon?"

"Well, History of Magic, but it's not like Binns is gonna notice -"

"Good," Merlin exhaled in relief. "Because this might knock you out for a while."

And before Fred and George and Lee could protest or even react, Merlin reached towards the three with his magic and the four were instantly submerged by Merlin's memories.

* * *

One of you PMed me last chapter regarding the fact that I tend to use 'gods' instead of 'God' when writing. I use 'gods' because I think that the Old Religion refers to paganism (I haven't done any research on it so I might be wrong, but it seems plausible). Paganism has multiple gods, so Merlin wouldn't be referring to just one god when he exclaims with 'oh my gods.' I'm not making a statement about religion, I'm trying to make the story make sense.

whenithitsthefan


	13. Chapter 13

I cut out and added some parts of the Merlin/Arthur walk-on-your-knees scene because I figured that you've all watched the first episode of Merlin anyways. I mean, unless you just have been really confused for the last twelve chapters, to which I suggest that you start watching the show.

I tend to avoid writing angst, just because I think it doesn't really have a plot, but this chapter's a little angsty anyways. Not much humor, either. Just a general notification.

* * *

_Before Fred and George and Lee could protest, Merlin reached out with his memories and the four were instantly submerged by Merlin's mind._

George was confused.

Fred was confused, too.

The twins and Lee landed on their backs in daylight, which didn't make sense _at all _because it was _evening _and _where the BLOODY HELL did their dorm go?_

Instead of a flooded wasteland with torn red fabric adorning the walls (their post Myrddin-tsunami home), the three found themselves with the wind knocked out of them, looking up at a bright sky and blinking sun from their eyes. The world had a strange low-saturation quality to it -the only _truly_ vibrantly colored thing here being the bright orange of the Weasley's hair. There were _people _around, too, everywhere, but their feet were stepping through them as if the three weren't there at all. The people were dressed oddly -in gowns and in peasant's rags and chainmail, like a scene out of a medieval play. Far in the distance rose the high spires of some sort of stone castle -_not _Hogwarts.

"Where's Myrddin?" Fred noticed his friend's disappearance and he scrambled his feet, turning three-sixty and frowning in worry.

George looked too, pulling the other three with him as he plunged into the crowd towards the sound of raucous laughter.

"Hey," a familiar voice called, somewhere in front of them, and George sighed with relief as he reached the edge of the crowd.

_"Myrddin," _he exclaimed, grinning widely, but the grin faltered when his friend didn't move to acknowledge him -just stared in the opposite direction with a hesitant smile on his face.

_"That _is not Myrddin," Fred realized, catching sight of Myrddin's face. _"That _is too old to be Myrddin."

George scrutinized the pale boy. "But -" he began, and Lee cut him off with a low mutter.

"Fred's right," Lee remarked, almost to himself. "It's not Myrddin. It was never _Myrddin_."

_What does he mean by that? _

"...You've had your fun, my friend," older-Myrddin told a larger brown-blonde haired boy who was sauntering towards him. This Myrddin was different. There was a mischievous sparkle in his eye that George had never realized was missing. His face was..._happier, _somehow. Younger. More full of life and innocence.

"Do I know you?" The blonde inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Uhm, I'm Merlin -"

"-So I don't know you."

George's jaw was on the ground. Fred's expression mirrored George, while Lee just watched the scene with an air of anticipation. "Did he just..." George began, and then tried again. "Sorry, _what _did he just say his name was?"

"He's Merlin," Lee confirmed, but didn't elaborate because the scene was unfolding before them.

"I'd never had a friend who could be such an ass," Myrddin -_Merlin? -_quipped back to the blonde.

"Or I, one who could be so stupid. I could throw you in jail for your insolence," the blonde grinned.

"Who d'you think you are, the _king?" _Merlin smirked back, but his smirk faltered with the blonde's response.

"No, I'm his _son. _Arthur."

The scene dissolved, and for a split second George and Lee and Fred had a moment to stare at each other in complete shock -even _Lee _hadn't known all of this.

Fragmented shards flew back together again, reforming and twisting into new colors and shapes. The three watched with saucer eyes as the pictures unfolded.

_An old woman, pinned by a chandelier...throwing a knife at Arthur's head as Merlin lunged forward, eyes glowing, to push him out of the way._

And more. The scenes whizzed by -

_"You saved my boy's life," a man told Merlin gratefully. "You shall be awarded with a position in the Royal Household...you shall be Prince Arthur's manservant..."_

_"Merlin!"_

"Mer_lin!"_

"Prat!"

_"Idiot."_

_"Clotpole."_

Over and over, Fred and George and Lee watched Myrddin -_Merlin -_performing feats worthy ten times over of any Gryffindor. They saw Merlin being more moral than an average Hufflepuff, solve mysteries worthy of Rowena Ravenclaw herself. They saw Merlin killing in cold blood.

They saw towers burning.

Spells flying.

Rocks falling.

And then -

_"I don't expect you to understand, Morgana," Merlin spat at a dark-haired witch as he hung in shackles from a ceiling. "You have no sense of duty, no sense of loyalty."_

_"You're wrong..."_

They saw Merlin screaming.

More scenes flashed. Dragons, knights, an old man with a Dumbledore beard and a familiar twinkle in his eye. Armies marching. Merlin with white hair and wrinkles, summoning storms from his position as a cliff. Morgan Le Fay -Morgana -falling before Merlin, who stood over her with a steely glint in his eye and a sword in his hand. Finally -

_"It's too late," Arthur whispered. "All your magic, Merlin, and you can't save my life."_

_"I can." The two were lying on the ground. _Even with the odd unsaturated tint to the memories, the three could still see the vibrant crimson patch on Arthur's chainmail._ "I'm not going to lose you. You're not going to say goodbye."_

_Arthur shook his head._

_"No -Merlin. Everything you've done...I know now. For me...for Camelot. Something I've never said to you before..."_

George was visibly shaking, now. Fred and Lee were rigid beside him.

_"...Thank you."_

They saw Arthur Pendragon die.

...

"Oh, bloody _hell," _Lee muttered. He didn't say anything else, but he didn't need to. The twins understood.

...

More scenes.

_Merlin, standing in a very familiar room, clutching a slip of paper in his hand. Four people -two men and two women -stood before him. __"Welcome to Hogwarts," an oddly familiar man greeted, shaking Merlin's hand. "We've heard so much about you. I'm Godric Gryffindor..."_

_Merlin, standing in a classroom, before several rows of students. "Welcome, class, to the first day at Hogwarts," he grinned at them all. "Ever. I'm your teacher, Merlin..."_

Back to the very familiar room -the Headmaster's office. "I can't _do_ it anymore," Merlin hissed angrily, wearing a hole in the carpet as he paced back and forth. The Founders watched him worriedly. "I can't just...sit around, not doing bloody ANYTHING."

Salazar's eyes were wide. "I wouldn't say that," he defended as his eyes tracked Merlin's movements. "You're teaching students, Merlin..."

"But they all die, in the end, don't they?" Merlin whirled on him and Salazar shrank back as the warlock's eyes flashed. "The students are going to die, and I'm going to still be _here, _in this bloody school! They all go away in the end. Even _you_. Because no one lives forever, except for _oh right, _the only person who doesn't actually _want _to live forever -"

"We're not _dead _yet, Merlin," Rowena glared at him cooly. _  
_

"Salazar got a silver hair yesterday," Merlin pointed at the man in question. "Helena's getting wrinkles. Godric's getting a little senile, let's face it, and I'm STUCK here, watching all of you DIE!"

His frustration was heavy in the air. The four watched him warily.

"You want to die," Helena stated after a moment. "Is this because of Arthur? Have you been having head pains? Difficulty sleeping?"

Merlin shook his head. "I'm not a patient, Helena." His voice had lost most of the anger -not he just sounded tired. "You can't diagnose me with some disease."

"Just because you can't die doesn't mean you're invincible," Helena argued bravely. "You're depressed, Merlin. Honestly, I'm surprised that you held out this long without losing it. Two hundred years is a long time."

"I don't want to talk about this now."

"You can't die," Godric spoke suddenly -he'd been watching the conversation carefully. "But...I think I have an idea. Say, how would you like to remain in the school asleep for a really long time and wake up when there's actual danger?"

...

The final scene was unfamiliar, in some sort of stone-walled chamber.

"You're sure about this," Salazar checked one last time as Merlin nodded impatiently. "Absolutely sure."

"Yes."

"You'll wake up," Helena warned. "Should we fail to protect the students of this school. So when you wake up, there _will _be danger."

"I'll be ready."

"I'll see you again," Godric told Merlin firmly, hugging him. Merlin just nodded once -he seemed to be having difficulty speaking. _  
_

"All right," Merlin replied -his voice had gone a bit hoarse. "Thank you. All of you, for everything. Tell the students..."

He trailed off.

"We'll think of something," Helena assured him. "Or at least, Rowena will."

Half-hearted smiles were shared.

"Are you ready?" Rowena asked, slipping a wand from the folds of her robes. Merlin nodded, once.

The other three Founders watched as Rowena raised her wand. Salazar and Helena were openly crying.

"Ego occidam omnem apio crinis cum Hibernicis. Manducabo apium aureum, quod est optimum, coloris luteu."

Strands of golden magic slithered from her hand towards Merlin and the warlock watched the magic twisting forward with a strange expression -it could have been anything from relief to fear to regret.

The first strand hit Merlin's body, then the second, and there was a blinding flash of light -

Merlin fell softly, guided by Helga's wand. His eyes closed as George's opened.

* * *

Two hours passed.

Merlin waited in the dorm, concentrating as he held the spell that kept his three friends passed out on Lee's bed (as well as the translator spell, which translated his memories so that the three wouldn't be listening to gibberish). Fred and George were both snoring softly, which Merlin didn't really understand because they weren't actually _asleep, _but he shrugged it off.

And waited.

Another hour passed. The dorm room was oddly silent. Merlin spaced off for a while, staring at a crack in the wall and thinking about nothing.

Nearly four hours had turned over when Fred and George and Lee stirred.

Lee woke up first. He blinked rapidly for several moments as if trying to keep the room in focus, and then caught sight of Merlin and turned his head away. Fred and George roused soon after.

"Why don't you have a beard?" Was the first thing that Fred asked once he caught sight of the warlock. Merlin glared.

"I just showed you my entire _life _and you're wondering about my lack of _facial hair?" _He received a sheepish look, and sighed. "Legends mutate," he answered shortly, purposely neglecting to mention Dragoon the Great because it would only bring up more questions and he wanted to get this over with. "Beards aren't my style."

"I can definitely imagine you with a beard. You would be _such_ a stereotypical old man."

Merlin laughed, but it sounded forced to his own ears. The whole conversation was forced, really -there were underlying emotions of nervousness and pity and Merlin knew that the four could only keep the small talk up for so long.

They fell into a silence. Merlin didn't know if the silence was uncomfortable; he stared at his hands and avoided the eyes of his friends. They were all sitting on Lee's bed, now -and was it his imagination, or were the other three leaning away from him?

"Say something," Merlin pleaded suddenly as the silence overwhelmed him. "You're acting like wallflowers. I don't like it. You're the _Mavericks, _you're not supposed to act like wallflowers."

Fred and George glanced at each other.

"We don't really know _how _to take it," George muttered. "I mean...even for us, it's a lot to process at once."

"Well, _personally, _I'm fangirling," Fred grinned weakly. "I mean...bloody hell, we've been friends with Merlin this _whole_ _time_!"

Lee smiled a little, too. "It's pretty sweet," he agreed. "Surreal, possibly a bad omen, scary as hell, but definitely cool. I suppose that I've had a few more hours to think about it, though, but you guys are taking it pretty well."

"Compared to how _you _took it, you mean?" Merlin grinned at him, and this time the grin was a little more natural. "I mean, you _did _basically run away."

Fred and George's expressions morphed suddenly into realization. "Oh, _that's _why you left him! And why you seemed a little...well, stoned, honestly, when you came back to the dorm."

"I still have a lot of questions, though..." Lee scratched his jaw. "Just because you answered all of the questions that I _had _doesn't mean that I can't think up more."

"Like...why my Chocolate Frog trading card says that you were sorted into _Slytherin," _Fred raised an eyebrow. "Honestly. _Slytherin?" _

Merlin shook his head. "I never was sorted into Slytherin," he frowned. "I've never actually tried the hat on before a week ago, actually. Slytherin _was _my best friend out of the Founders, so that might have spread -"

"WHAT?"

Three jaws dropped simultaneously. "You were best friends with _Slytherin?_"

Merlin shrugged. "Rowena was too smart for me, Helga was too much _like _me. Godric...Godric was a peeve and reminded me of Arthur, so I kept my distance." He pretended not to notice the winces that accompanied the name. "Salazar was a pretty good guy, when I knew him. From what I understand, things kind-of fell apart after I left -"

("No kidding," Fred snorted.)

"-I don't actually know the whole story. I know about Slytherin and Gryffindor's fight and then something about Gryffindor going nuts and Salazar building the Chamber..."

Lee nodded. "That's all we know, too. There's not a lot written about that -apparently, something so horrible happened that Ravenclaw herself ordered the destruction of about a hundred books. It was a scandal, and it was never spoken of again."

Merlin filed this information safely away. _  
_

"What have you found out, anyways?" George asked curiously. "I mean, since you've come to the school, you must have figured out _something..." _

Merlin shrugged. "Yeah, a bit."

The looks he received in response were skeptical.

"A _bit," _Lee raised an eyebrow slowly.

"Yeah, a bit."

"Define 'a bit,'" George said, lips twitching. "'Cause that could easily mean _oh-right-I-killed-the-Heir-and-didn't-tell-anyone-because-I'm-just-trolling-LOL _or _the-Heir-is-actually-Dumbledore-and-I-didn't-say-anything-because-he-is-my-old-man-kin _or -"

"Gilderoy Lockhart."

"What?"

"Gilderoy Lockhart, in the girl's bathroom, with a basilisk."

Lee grinned. "Someday, I will make a wizard's Clue, and that will be a murder combination."

"The basilisk is dead, though," Merlin assured them. "I killed it already. Accidentally."

Lee mouthed the word _accidentally_.

"So..." Fred looked torn between frowning in confusion and bouncing up and down with joy. "What's the problem, then? Why is Dumbledore still lumbering around the school like someone poured water on his phoenix?"

"There are a few reasons," Merlin replied sheepishly as the others groaned. "First...well, Dumbledore doesn't seem to actually _believe _me about anything. In fact, he and Snape both think that I'm a dark wizard, but he's got no _substantial_ proof."

"Does they _know _who you _are?" _Fred scoffed in outrage. "I swear, that senile old -"

"Second," Merlin cut across, "Dumbledore doesn't really know anything. I mentioned Gilderoy Lockhart, and I mentioned the basilisk, but I was yelling at him and not making much sense and I don't think anything I said got through. All he knows is that something's attacking the school and I'm involved somehow and a bunch of Ravenclaw fetuses are accusing me of cat-scratching Filch. Third...well, I didn't _actually _kill the thing that's attacking the students."

"But the basilisk -"

"-Wasn't the _only_ thing attacking the students," the warlock sighed. "As far as I can tell. See, I paid a visit to the Chamber of Secrets the other day -"

"You _paid a visit__ -‽" _

"- And the basilisk was dead from when I'd accidentally killed it -"

"Now hang on just -"

"- And I killed it on _Friday, _yeah? So then Hermione Granger was Petrified _the day after that _which wouldn't have been _possible _unless a) someone went into the Chamber and gouged out the basilisk's bloody eyeballs and then carried them everywhere showing them to anyone who cared or b) something else Petrified her, and there are _two _Hogwarts monsters."

Fred and George and Lee blinked at him, eyes wide, with their mouths opening and closing like stunned goldfish.

"Nice deductions," George commended weakly. "See, we're Gryffindors so we don't really get your reasoning, but your conclusion is bloody _terrifying _and I'm currently considering whether or not to scream in terror -"

"So scream," Lee suggested.

George screamed.

"But _two _Slytherin monsters?" Fred croaked, horrified. "Plus the heir? Plus midterm exams? And if _Merlin _can't figure it out..."

"We're DOOMED," Lee wailed, clutching at his hair in anguish. "I'd like my gravestone to say _I knew this would happen_ please, thanks."

"I've only been here for a week," Merlin defended. "And I _would _have figured things out if I wasn't being oppressed by Dumbledore. Not to mention that I'm only using a hundredth of my power because I don't want anyone to figure out who I am."

"Can't you just...I don't know, read someone's mind?" Fred looked thoughtful. "I mean, it wouldn't be that hard -just a few moments later and then _bam, _you know everything you need to know -"

"I don't read minds," Merlin asserted vehemently. "I just _don't."_

"Can you?"

"Yes, but it's a dangerous business. Minds are fragile, and if I drove an innocent person insane because I was just _curious, _or had a _hunch, _I would never forgive myself. And never, for me, is a very long time."

"...Haven't had qualms about hurting people before." It was a soft mutter that Merlin would never had heard if his ears had been any smaller. Merlin turned in surprise to George.

"What did you say?"

George looked surprised. "What? Nothing."

"No, I heard you say something," Merlin pressed, but George shook his head.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"He said that 'you haven't had qualms about hurting people before,'" Lee supplied helpfully, and George glared at Lee in hurt betrayal.

Merlin stared. "What's _that _supposed to mean?"

George didn't answer. "It's just...you've killed a lot of people."

"Yes, I have." Merlin's face was impassive. "That was a millennium ago."

"Not long for _you_. Only two hundred years or so."

Merlin shook his head. "Please, _please _don't make this about my morals. I did what I had to to keep me and Arthur alive."

George frowned. "But -"

"It was the _middle ages, _George. People killed each other all the time, it was like Quidditch to us. I've beaten myself up about it, sure, but in the end I'd still do the same thing every time to save my friends."

George didn't look completely convinced. He spaced out for several moments in deep thought.

...

"Did you ever count?" Lee spoke suddenly.

"Count what?" Merlin frowned, fingers fiddling nervously with the throw of the bed.

"How many people died in Albion all those years ago." _Because of you, _Lee seemed to be implying as he stared intently at Merlin. Merlin turned away._  
_

"I have absolutely no idea."

"How old are you now?" It was Fred this time. Merlin had a good idea of where these questions were going, so he answered vaguely.

"About...I don't know. I lose track. Eleven hundred and something, I think, unless I'm lying."

"You're eleven hundred and forty-two." Merlin looked at Lee in surprise -_oh, yeah. I'd forgotten that I'd told him my age._

"And in those eleven hundred and forty-two years, you've never even wondered how many there were. You've never _once _counted?"

Merlin felt his throat constricting. Lee was right -he _had _counted.

"Two hundred and forty-seven," Merlin bit out. "Not including two immortal armies. They died because of me. Not directly, not all of them...but if I hadn't lived, then they wouldn't have died."

He waited for the shouts of anger. He waited for the gasps and the accusing glares of these boys from the twentieth century who had _no idea -_

"Two hundred and forty-seven," Lee said. "But you saved _so_ _many_ more. I've read about the Great and Powerful Merlin, but even though you killed...you're a good man, too."

"I'm sorry," Fred told him softly, and Merlin looked around in surprise. "I'm sorry you had to carry that with you. I'm sorry you lost, I'm sorry you'll have to lose more. I'm sorry that you had to watch your friends grow old and die, or die young, while you kept living."

"And thank you," George added finally. "For everything. _Everything." _The word spoke volumes as Lee bumped Merlin's shoulder affectionately and Fred grinned. Merlin grinned back.

* * *

After dinner that night, Neville Longbottom was found comatose inside the second-year boy's dorm.

* * *

The "Bloody hell, we've been friends with Merlin this whole time" line was suggested by FateOfChaos, so thanks :)

And a 'Guest' mentioned on chapter 11 that they were sad Merlin and Draco weren't going to become bffs and take over the world together...but what did I say that made you think that they _weren't _going to? ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN, DEAR READERS! As in I actually debated having a TARDIS crash through the Great Hall ceiling one day at breakfast and then decided against it. Whatever you're thinking of, don't put it off! (Okay, okay, that sounded a _little_ bit crackish but I swear this story actually has a plot.)

And I just need a moment to announce that IT'S SNOWING AAAAH

I personally LOVE snow. Except the cold kind. And especially not when it's, you know, OCTOBER THIRD.

whenithitsthefan


	14. Chapter 14

Kudos to everyone who's spotted any references in past chapters! There's been a lot of them :) I make a lot of Doctor Who references, if you hadn't noticed...I'm really trying to add some fandom diversity...in my defense, I made a Death Note reference a couple of chapters ago.

Thanks to Lieutenant Luna for pointing out a plot error last chapter!

* * *

"It's a _nightmare," _Hermione groaned as she slammed her book bag on the table at breakfast the next morning.

Harry could think of a number of nightmares that Hermione may have been referring to. The attack on Neville had left the school nervous as ever – the Gryffindors were especially terrified, and the fact that their attacker could get _into _Gryffindor tower...that definitely had some nightmarish qualities.

"What?" Harry asked, half because she was waiting for someone to ask and half because he was genuinely curious.

"Everything!" She sat down with a huff and began spooning herself vegetables. "Everything in the library on Petrification has been checked out, and Madam Pince had no record of _who _checked it out -it's like someone is trying to mess me up on purpose. Poor Neville's lying comatose in the Hospital Wing, and I still have no clue why _he _was targeted, though I have a few ideas. Not to mention Myrtle is on a mission to blow up every toilet in the school -"

"'Orry, paushe," Ron stopped her, holding up a hand and swallowing the food that he'd been chewing. _Sorry, pause. _"_What _was that about Myrtle? She's doing _what,_ now?"

"Some _idiot _blew up Myrtle's toilet," Hermione fumed, taking a violent bite out of her carrot while Fred and George snickered further up the table. "And now she's a bloody _poltergeist _and she's recruited Peeves and by this rate all of our bathrooms will be gone and we're going to have to pee in the magical sewer holes in the dungeon -"_  
_

"Oh, budge up, Hermione," Ron scoffed as Hermione glared at him. "I'm sure it's not _that _bad."

* * *

It was very, very bad.

Remus officially _despised_ being caretaker. He was paid well, and he got to be back at Hogwarts, but thus far those were the only two plusses in sight. He now felt extremely vague pity for Filch. _Extremely _vague -mostly just awe at how the HELL Filch had managed to clean the _entire castle _without magic. It was hard enough _with _magic, thank you very much._  
_

And now, added to the messes of the students and the sheer enormity of Hogwarts...someone had set Moaning Myrtle loose on the school.

An angry Moaning Myrtle, Remus was quickly learning, was _not _something to be trifled with. He'd caught a glimpse of her once, cackling madly as she disappeared around a corner (while the sound of an explosion echoed from the direction that she had come). So far, she had blown up thirty-two toilets (or at least, Remus had _fixed _thirty-two toilets) in only twenty hours. Peeves had taken the liberty of aiding Myrtle on her valiant quest by impeding Remus in whatever way he could.

"Are you two _friends?" _Remus squeaked as Peeves swooped around his head, sniggering at Remus's attempts to shield himself from dungbombs that bombarded him. "What has _happened _to this poor school? _Waddiwasi!" __  
_

The dungbomb that nearly landed on his head reversed and zoomed back into Peeves's face. The poltergeist did a back somersault, coughing dramatically as the noxious gas filled the hallway. Remus's heightened senses were drowning in the fumes, and he gagged, clutching the wall for support.

"Peeves -" Remus coughed. "-Where do you get all of these bloody DUNGBOMBS?"

"It's _rude _to swear!" Peeves admonished once he'd recovered. He waggled a finger in Remus's face (who was trying to muster the breath for another spell). "Rude Lupin, _bullying _Lupin, swearing at poor Peeves!"

"Peeves -"

"Loony Loopy Lupin, Loony Loopy -hey, look who's come to party!"

"Oh, it's that _caretaker!" _A new voice said in delight -a high-pitched, hard-to-mistake voice that sent Remus's stomach plummeting. "The _nasty _one who's been foiling my _noble_ work!"

Myrtle materialized through the dungbomb smog -she and Peeves (save for Peeves's theatrics) seemed, for the most part, unaffected by the bombs. Myrtle's eyes were dancing with a psychotic glee; Peeves held the same mischievous smirk that he always seemed to have. Both were grinning at him to the effect of the Cheshire Cat -it was creepy as hell.

_They can't hurt you, _Remus reminded himself. _Nothing lasting, at least. It's impossible.  
_

He pushed himself up, backing away subtly and holding his shirt over his mouth and nose. The air was completely opaque, now -he couldn't see his own feet, let alone the poltergeist duo (though, he conceded, the poltergeists couldn't see him, either, which was a plus). And the _smell_...he was feeling a little bit woozy...

"Who did this to you, Myrtle?" Remus called to her, regretting having said anything as he inhaled a load of dungbomb smoke. "Was it one of the students?" _  
_

"Yes," Myrtle sulked. "It was that _handsome _one -I forget his name already, but he's _evil."_

"What did he do?" (As long as Myrtle was still talking, Remus figured, the poltergeists couldn't drop bombs on him.) "Why'd he blow it up?"

Myrtle's reply was shrill. "I don't _know! _He had _no reason! _He's a _bully, _just like _you!" _

The smoke was _really _beginning to bother him. His head was fuzzy.

"'Sorry," Remus told her profusely. "But...did you have to blow up the...the doilet...next to _my _office?"

Myrtle was silent.

"Why my doilet, Myrtle?" Remus was vaguely aware that he was slurring. "What'd my doilet ever do to you?"

"I'm making a POINT!" Myrtle screeched. "If I can't have my toilet, then_ no one_ can have their toilet!"

Remus's head was throbbing. He opted for the moment to say silent, mostly because every word _hurt _and he couldn't really think fast enough to form coherent sentences. He edged away, finding a wall and following it steadily until -

_"Remus Lupin?" _

Remus spun to find that he'd reached the edge of the fart cloud and stood before four slightly-green students.

"Ah, hello, Miss'er Emrys," Remus grinned, blinking rapidly. "Hey, have you noticed...weather's not looking nice today...really f -fog -" he struggled to get the word out. "Foggy! One hundred 'cent chance of po'ergeists! Haha!"

Why was the world tipping?

"...Come on, Remus," someone said. "Let's get you away..."

"I used to like dungbombs," Remus told them earnestly. "Back in the seventies, I -"

* * *

"I didn't know it was possible to get high off of dungbomb fumes," Fred observed thoughfully as Lupin blabbered. "Could come in handy."

"_Hebban_," Merlin muttered, eyes flashing gold, and Lupin's body lifted into the air. The other three watched curiously.

"Aren't you worried that he'll remember that?" Lee glanced at their caretaker, who was attempting to touch his toes while floating. Merlin snorted.

"Please. He's not going to remember a thing."

Lee figured that any average Hogwartsian would be gagging from the horrible stench coming from Remus Lupin, but honestly, his nostrils had numbed to the smell after the hundredth dungbomb prank. None of the others were gagging (save for Merlin, who hadn't really gotten used to the bombs yet).

"Sometimes, I wish I had a muggle video camera," George sighed, watching Lupin. "I could get a hundred smashes on the Line with this kind of stuff."

Fred nodded in agreement while Lee hid a snort behind a cough.

"Erm, hello," spoke a light voice from behind them. "What are you doing?"

"Who are you?" Fred asked rudely, turning. It was a tiny blonde girl, lithe and willowy, with a faraway expression and a small smile. Merlin had never seen her before.

The girl shrugged. "I'm Remus's friend," she told them earnestly, sticking out a hand which they hesitantly shook. Her gaze darted to the half-lucid caretaker. "What did you do to him?"

George looked extremely offended. "What makes you think that _we _did anything to him?" He huffed indignantly. _"We _are _innocent, _thank you."

Remus's friend nodded cheerfully. "Oh, yes," she agreed, almost amusedly. "You four are probably the most innocent Gryffindors in the school."

"I think she's being sarcastic, but I can't tell," Lee whispered loudly to Merlin, who snorted.

"Luna?" Lupin yawned, blinking rapidly as the girl's face -Luna's face -came into focus. His dungbomb high seemed to have progressed from tipsy babbling to an overwhelming desire to sleep.

"Hello, Remus," Luna smiled at him, and the caretaker grinned back as he swayed slightly. "How are you?"

"I'm FANTASTIC!" Lupin gestured widely. "I've never been better! Though...my head's a little off..."

Luna nodded seriously. "I think I know why -you haven't taken your potion, have you?"

Lupin frowned in confusion, and an odd expression of -panic? -crossed his features.

"My potion..." Lupin muttered to himself. "I don't..."

"The one that I made you, remember?" Luna was wide-eyed. "To help keep away the nargles."

Lupin's expression cleared. _"That _one. I knew it." He turned to the Mavericks, and his face took on a very bleak expression. "I have nargles," he confided grimly. "Lots of them." He motioned towards his head with his index finger, leaning forward secretively. "In _here." _

"I think we should get him back to his office," Merlin spoke carefully, watching Lupin with a skeptical eyebrow. "Before he falls over."

Too late -Lupin had already passed out. His head hit the floor with an ear-aching _clunk _and the five students winced sympathetically. _  
_

Lupin began to snore.

"All right," Fred sighed, moving forward to take one of Lupin's arms (None of the other three knew _mobilicorpus, _and Merlin was hesitant to use his magic in front of Luna). "Help me lift him back to his office."

* * *

The topic of discussion in History of Magic that Thursday made Merlin extremely uncomfortable.

"Merlin," Binns told the class in a slightly-less bored voice than usual, "was a great wizard."

"Warlock," Lee corrected under his breath as Merlin shifted uncomfortably in the chair beside him. Binns didn't hear.

"He was born to an incubus she-demon," Binns continued. "A magical creature from which Merlin got his superior magical ability. He was the advisor to King Arthur -"

(Lee now understood what Merlin had meant earlier when he had said that _'legends mutate.')__  
_

"This is painful," Fred whispered to the other three, and Merlin nodded.

"-Many people have heard this," the ghost declared. "The life of Merlin is common knowledge -at least, his life in Camelot."

"I thought he lived in Camelot his entire life," a Ravenclaw argued, and Binns blinked as if realizing that the class was actually paying attention. Merlin _was _a very interesting topic, Lee supposed.

"Well, he _would _have lived his life in Camelot if he had had the lifespan of a normal wizard..."

"So he's _immortal?" _Angelina gasped, and Binns shook his head.

"No. His last recorded appearance was during the time of the Founders. That was when Merlin died. Now..."

The class subsided into another bored silence.

"...During his time at Camelot, he was mentored by a dragon named Gaius, and Merlin in turn taught Arthur Pendragon. Merlin had a sister, too, named Morgan Le Fay, who one day poisoned Gaius. In a rage, Merlin went after Morgan Le Fay, and the two faced down in an epic battle while King Arthur fought off Morgan Le Fay's immortal army with his pet unicorn, Gwaine -"

"Professor Binns, sir," Merlin ventured, raising a tentative hand. "Uh, excuse me, hi...where exactly are you getting your information from?" Merlin scratched his ear. "I mean, I'm sure it's a very reliable source, but I've heard these legends a bit differently..."

"It is history," the teacher told him shortly. "It is fact."

"Yes, but, um -"

Binns stared owlishly at Merlin. "What is your name?" He asked.

"Myrddin."

"Funny, that was one of Merlin's pseudonyms," Binns chucked a little to himself. "Myrddin Emrys, he called himself."

Gasps rippled through the room. As one body, the entire class turned to stare at Merlin, who shrunk into his seat.

"You're named after _Merlin?" _Alicia demanded. "Were your parents obsessed or something?"

Merlin just shrugged. "They were Merlin fanatics," he nodded, falling into the lie. "They got really excited over all that Camelot stuff."

Some students laughed a little, and Merlin flushed, grinning sheepishly. The tension had eased, but Fred and George and Lee were glancing at each other nervously.

"Anyways," Binns continued, falling again into a low drone. "Once Merlin married, he had a werewolf child named Freya..."

* * *

"That was _torture," _Fred groaned as the four left the History of Magic classroom. "I mean, come _on. _Binns got it all wrong. You're not _dead, _you're not married, and you've never been _ginger. _You're just sort of..." He glanced at Merlin's hair. "Brown-black."

"I've always _wanted_ to be ginger," Merlin remarked wistfully.

"Yeah, well, dye your hair and you can become an honorary Weasley," the twins grinned at him. "Ginger with a long white be-"

_"HELP!" _A small boy screamed, racing down the hallway and skidding to a halt in front of the four fourth-years. They blinked at him.

"Hang on -I know you!" Merlin exclaimed. "You're camera boy!"

"Creevey, right?" Fred asked, and the kid nodded tearfully. "What's wrong?"

"I can't stop it!" Creevey wailed. "I've been running for _ages _trying to find -"

"Uh, what?" George glanced nervously down the hallway from where Colin had come. "Is something chasing you?"

Colin shook his head furiously. "No, it's just...I can't find a _bathroom! _They've all been blown up!"

"Oh." Fred frowned. "We thought it was something interesting."

"Why don't you go and pee in the Forbidden Forest?" Lee suggested kindly. "I mean, if you're really that desperate -"

The boy's eyes grew wide. "But Dumbledore said that -"

"Yeah, well, Dumbledore doesn't know anything," George snorted. "The Forest is fine. There are leaves to wipe with and everything."

"And I'm sure the centaurs have bathrooms somewhere," Fred added. "You can ask them."

"Now, shoo," Merlin waved a hand and Creevey thanked them quickly, turning tail and sprinting down the hallway in the general direction of the Forbidden Forest. "Is the Forest really _safe?" _Merlin continued skeptically once the boy had gone. "I mean, I'd heard that there are giant spiders, but I've never actually seen it for myself..."

"Well, not _safe, _exactly," Fred frowned. "But the Forest is a heck of a lot safer than it would be if any of the Slytherins got wind that Colin Creevey peed his pants."

"It's becoming a problem, actually," Merlin frowned. "Myrtle'd better stop blowing up all these toilets. Sooner or later I'm going to have to use a bathroom."

* * *

Three second year Gryffindors huddled together in said ghost's bathroom.

"Someone was having a really bad day," Ron gaped at the humongous crater in the side of the sinks. "I mean, pi-times-thirty-feet kind of anger problems."

It really _was _impressive, Harry supposed. He crept forward to the edge of the crater, to where a pipe had been exposed.

"I think they were trying to get to _this," _Harry muttered, motioning to the pipe. "What do you suppose it is?"

"The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets," Hermione replied matter-of-factly. The two boys turned to gape at her.

"How do you _know _that?" Ron spoke in awe. Hermione snorted.

"Because there's a _sign, _Ronald," she pointed. On the inside of the pipe, exposed by the crater and the light, were white painted words.

_THIS IS THE ENTRANCE TO THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS. _

"Oh." Ron frowned. "That makes a lot of sense, actually."

"Are we going _in?" _Harry raised a skeptical eyebrow. Hermione shook her head.

"We should tell a teacher," she decided, and continued as the other two immediately started to protest. "We don't have to tell _Snape _or anything. Just someone who can actually do something about it. Like Dumbledore."

"Fine," Ron huffed. "But we have to make Dumbledore promise that he'll let us come with him, all right?"

Hermione just rolled her eyes. "Anyways," she began, pulling out her wand, "we have _got _to do something about Myrddin Emrys."

"Oh, so you're finally realizing that he's evil?"

Hermione shook her head hastily. "No, no -I just think that he's hiding something important. I think..." she hesitated. "I think that we shouldn't use the Polyjuice Potion on Crabbe and Goyle."

_"What? _But Hermione -"

"Malfoy doesn't _know _anything," she spoke with utmost certainty. "I've been doing a lot of research lately, in the library -" _Eye rolls. _"-You know, just checking out lineage texts and such -and Malfoy isn't _related _to Slytherin. Slytherin only had _one _kid, and the kid killed himself before he could continue the Slytherin line. So it's _impossible _for Malfoy to be the Heir."

Her friends considered this. "Okay," Harry began slowly. "I see your point. But if we don't use the Polyjuice on Crabbe and Goyle, then who -"

And then they realized.

"Bloody _hell, _Hermione," Ron gasped. "You're insane."

"Hang on, you can't mean -"

Hermione nodded, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Yep. Ron, how do you feel about drugging your brothers?"

As the two digested this, Hermione waved her wand and a cauldron shimmered into view. "Lucky I hid our cauldron," she said matter-of-factly. "And that it wasn't affected by the blast. And lucky there was fluxweed in Snape's stores -otherwise the potion could've taken a whole _month." _

Harry swallowed his shock. "When...when will it be ready, then?"

Hermione shrugged. "A few days, tops -and then we'll know _everything." __  
_

* * *

Ech, sorry for the earlier readers who read the unedited version. I literally finished this at 9:27 and posted it at 9:28. I'm reading it over and making it longer and stuff now.

And it's official -Harry and Ron are going to masquerade as the Weasley twins to get information from Merlin. Fun, fun.

whenithitsthefan


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